Quotes About Solitude

I accept that I've lost the game of life in the same way that one loses at solitaire.

I gave myself up to my tears. It was as though my head had turned to clear water, it was falling pleasantly away drop by drop; soon nothing would remain.

I could not bear the silences when the drum stopped. I sank down into the depths of the sound of the rain.

The sound of the freezing of snow over the land seemed to roar deep into the earth. There was no moon. The stars, almost too many of them to be true, came forward so brightly that it was as if they were falling with the swiftness of the void.

For such a tiny death, the empty eight-mat room seemed enormous.

THE TRAIN came out of the long tunnel into the snow country.

Cum o fi oare sentimentul de singur?tate la animale?

Animalele nu sunt lipsite de sentimente… Dac? n-aÈ™ avea lâng? mine ceva viu, care s? se miÈ™te, n-aÈ™ putea suporta singur?tatea.

La luce della cabina si spense. A bordo, l'odore di pesce e salsedine si fece più intenso. Nel buio, scaldato dal tepore del corpo del ragazzo, diedi libero sfogo alle lacrime. La mia mente era ormai acqua limpida che scivolava via goccia a goccia, mentre a me restava solo il dolce piacere di ciò che finisce e non lascia più nulla.

Y si uno se siente demasiado solo incluso para suicidarse?

In the darkness, warmed by the boy beside me, I gave myself up to my tears. It was as though my head had tumed to cleiir water, it was falling pleasantly away drop by drop; soon nothing would remain.

Sometimes I come crashing down inside myself without anyone noticing.

Out of three or four in a room One is always standing at the window Hair dark above his thoughts Behind him the words And in front of him the words, wandering without luggage Hearts without provision, prophecies without water, And big stones put there And stayed, closed, like letters, With no adresses; and no one to receive them.

Hide until everybody goes home. Hide until everybody forgets about you. Hide until everybody dies.

Yes, wilderness for its own sake, without any need to justify it for human benefit.

I did come out with two invaluable intimations. Talking to yourself can be useful. And writing means being overheard.

he] had become the bloke in the joke: the last man on earth

for the Owl there was something Infinitely Preferable About the Night. The Owl had difficulty explaining this to other birds.

She held herself apart, always.

Work on a computer that is disconnected from the internet.

Talking to yourself can be useful. And writing means being overheard.

The windows of the

Strangely it came to Gale then that he was glad. Yaqui had returned to his own — the great spaces, the desolation, the solitude — to the trails he had trodden when a child, trails haunted now by ghosts of his people, and ever by his gods. Gale realized that in the Yaqui he had known the spirit of the desert, that this spirit had claimed all which was wild and primitive in him.

I made up my mind to keep my feelings to myself since they did not seem to matter to anyone else but me.