Quotes About Solitude

Now, alone on the roof, Valentine looked at her shoes and wished people would either stay or go away, but not constantly coming back and leaving again.

Commune with your own heart on your bed and be still.

He was safe here; this was the place he loved - sanctuary, the paradise of his despair.

In the night, when the world hates you, it helps to sleep in the arms of someone who doesn't.

She stays lost in the middle of her own world somewhere. We can't get in and she doesn't come out. Not often anyway, and certainly not for any length of time. But her mind takes her to somewhere kind, I think, to judge by the peaceful, serene look on her face most of the time.

He loved to draw. Animals pouncing mostly. And trees. Always lone trees in black landscapes.

Well, it's true. If she ever had an original thought it would die of loneliness.

Sometimes I wish there was just you and me and no one else in the whole world" - Callum

Sometimes I wish there was just you and me and no one else in the whole world.

What will happen to the flowers, now that you are gone? The earth that clings to the steps, the tulsi that begins to sprout. The colors that brighten the darkness of the stairs, the scents that perfume the air. Must I climb alone the petal-strewn trail of your descent?

There is no greater serenity of mind," Malcolm reflected, "than when one can shut the hectic noise and pace of the materialistic outside world, and seek inner peace within oneself.

There is no greater serenity of mind," Malcolm reflected, "than when one can shut the hectic noise and pace of the materialistic outside world, and seek inner peace within oneself." Later that evening Malcolm wrote, "The

Soledat! Soledat! Soledat! Desconeguts en els quals fixar el nostre afany impossible durant les breus hores d'una nit, rostres que un moment semblaven preciosos però que tot seguit calia avorrir, contactes furtius i sense satisfacció en les cambres anònimes on, més que estimar-nos, ens prostituïem...

Leggere è un vizio solitario e innocente

El silencio es necesario para aprender cosas sobre uno mismo.

Escribir es defender la soledad en que se está; es una acción que sólo brota desde un aislamiento efectivo, pero desde un aislamiento comunicable, en que, precisamente, por la lejanía de toda cosa concreta se hace posible un descubrimiento de relaciones entre ellas. Pero es una soledad que necesita ser defendida, que es lo mismo que necesitar de justificación. El escritor defiende su soledad, mostrando lo que en ella y únicamente en ella, encuentra.

Could I but end my days in this charming isle, without evermore stirring from it, or seeing a single inhabitant of the continent, who could remind me of all those calamities which have for so many years united to overwhelm me!…

something that locates them at a distance from aging and the passing time:

Sabemos bien que en cualquier sociedad el orden social y cultural gobierna la relación con la naturaleza, que nombrar es clasificar, que una soledad absoluta es impensable, que toda identidad se define en relación con una alteridad, y que lo mismo y lo otro están estrechamente ligados, asociados en el tiempo y en el espacio.

Questions. Teresa's communities, like any group, were composed of both introverts who gravitated toward solitude and extroverts who had a proclivity to make beelines to the front parlor. She also knew that we all tend to justify our natural bent. However, to do God's will, sometimes demands that we go against the grain of our personalities. In what ways does God frequently ask you to do things that go against your temperament?

La solitude rend impatient, c'est l'impatience qui tue l'enfance.

C'est en regardant les objets du quotidien, tel un couteau à beurre, que l'on se rend compte que quelqu'un est parti et qu'il ne reviendra plus ; un stupide couteau à beurre qui taille à jamais des tranches de solitude dans votre vie.

Savoir simplement que tu es là quelque part sur cette terre sera, dans mon enfer, mon petit coin de paradis.

les rêves vécus à deux forment les souvenirs les plus beaux. La solitude est un jardin où l'âme se dessèche, les fleurs qui y poussent n'ont pas de parfum.