Quotes About Solitude

side by side, together and miles apart, we are deep in our books.

We were both lone twins.

The hours between eight in the evening and one or two in the morning have always been my magic hours.

Home was a place to be only when all other places were closed.

Between the sun there is no one

It's odd how different a house feels when one is alone in it. It makes it easier to think rather private thoughts...

It is odd how different a house feels when one is alone in it.

There's nothing more, except that I usually sit down until the flames die down and try to think myself back into the past.

I had to do most of my writing in bed at night, which stopped me from encouraging Rose to talk much — not that she had shown signs of wanting to, having taken to going for long walks by herself. This desire for solitude often overcomes her at house-cleaning times.

I'm not reclusive at all. Just private.

A writer takes earnest measures to secure his solitude and then finds endless ways to squander it.

That clean but lonely feeling when there are no other cars. The traffic lights changing just for you.

I sat on the front steps alone, waiting for a sense of ease and peace to settle in the air around me. A woman passing on the street said, ´A decongestant, an antihistamine, a cough suppressant, a pain reliever.´

The self. What is the self? Everything you are, without others, without friends or strangers or lovers or children or streets to walk or food to eat or mirrors in which to see yourself. But are you anyone without others?

Non chiamai Marion. Provai un senso di solitudine, in mancanza di parole migliori, ma in effetti è la parola giusta, una cosa a cui ho sempre cercato di oppormi e da cui sapevo come uscire, ma talvolta anche questo non bastava, e non la chiamai perché non volevo arrendermi, guardando la notte che scendeva.

In the dark the mind runs on like a devouring machine, the only thing awake in the universe.

I do not want to talk about it.

It is only me, the body in the shower, one person enclosed in plastic watching a drop of water skate down the wet curtain. The moment is there to be forgotten. This seems the ultimate point. It is a moment never to be thought of except when it is in the process of unfolding.

The instant he knew he loved her, she slipped down his body and out of his arms. Then she wedged herself through the narrow opening in the boards and he watched her cross the street. Nothing moved out there. She was the lone stroke of motion, crew and extras gone, equipment gone, and she was cool and silvery slim and walking head-high, with technical precision, toward the last trailer in the service station, where she would find her clothes, dress quickly and disappear.

She wasn't a child who needed imaginary friends. She was imaginary to herself.

Isolation is not a drawback to those who understand that isolation is the point.

I had to wonder whether this interval had any more spread and breadth than just another sequestered moment, bordered by closed doors.

Solitude asks no pledges of anyone.

I moonlight, except there's nothing I'm moonlighting from. Moonlight is all that's out there.