Best 1398 quotes in «solitude quotes» category

Moments spent alone make us realize the value of our own thoughts. Value your solitude.

Moon in the sky, stars out, the wide-open expanse of nothing: it made him feel free and alive as the daytime never did.

moonlight disappears down the hills mountains vanish into fog and i vanish into poetry.

Mr. Collins was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself

Much better stay in company! To love you must have someone else, Giving requires a legatee, Good neighbours need whole parishfuls Of folk to do it on - in short, Our virtues are all social; if, Deprived of solitude, you chafe, It's clear you're not the virtuous sort.

Music is what is left when everyone is not around.

My aloneness had never bothered me; I hadn't even been aware of it. But now it overwhelmed me. The awareness washed over me with painful sharpness and deep grief. Now that I had company.

my books won't take me far into this place

My creative muse is wabi-sabi, a practice where inessentials are trimmed away or eliminated. The intersection where wabi (minimal) and sabi (functional) meet is the platform for my creativity: space and quiet solitude, simplicity.

my dear, we are all made of water. it's okay to rage. sometimes it's okay to rest. to recede.

my dearest agony let us be together, i am not seasoned for this solitude.

My fear of loneliness is like a disease.

my heart, sometimes singing in the afternoon, the most haunting song of solitude

My lone silence has the quality of marshmallows, padded with sugary dough, but other people's silence is punctured with pointy, jagged blades.

My loneliness was an important part of my own little universe, not some pathological disease that needs to be gotten [sic] rid of.

My own study of the networked life has left me thinking about intimacy - about being with people in person, hearing their voices and seeing their faces, trying to know their hearts. And it has left me thinking about solitude-the kind that refreshes and restores. Loneliness is failed solitude. To experience solitude you must be able to summon yourself by yourself; otherwise you will only know how to be lonely

My name it means nothing my fortune is less My future is shrouded in dark wilderness Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on Everything I posessed - Now they are gone Oh where can I go to and what can I do? Nothing can please me only thoughts are of you You just laughed when I begged you to stay I've not stopped crying since you went away The world is a lonely place when you're on your own Guess I will go home - sit down and moan. Crying and thinking is all that I do Memories I have remind me of you

My Solitude is my Treasure, the best thing I have. I hesitate to go out. If you opened the little gate, I would not hop away—but oh how I sing in my gold cage.

My wish has always been to write my own story, to create a life that’s worth writing about. But is a story worth anything at all if I have no one to tell it to?

My wilderness training was 4 years and 10 months of solitude, search and study.

Nature, take my breath with you; renew it with the wild breeze and fill my being up with so much soul, ego learns to fade away.

Near me nothing but distances.

Natürlich mochte ich die, die nicht ich waren, nur selten.

No one ever seems to get that I need to be alone sometimes.

Never forget that solitude is my lot ... I implore those who love me to love my solitude." (Letter to Mimi Romanelli, May 11, 1910)

Nightmares are seldom a foreshadowing of real events, but always a showing of real fears.

No matter how far I try to travel from people, people always appear. Either they follow me, or they're already there, and I followed them, unwittingly.

No real excellence, personal or social, artistic, philosophical, scientific, or moral, can arise without solitude.

No, solitude did not trouble her. She could spend long minutes gazing out the window, hours listening to the BBC on the public radio station. She relished the very texture of her privacy, its depth of space and freedom, much of an entire day hers alone.

Nico didn’t respond. He’d never had anyone talk to him this openly before, except maybe for Hazel. He felt like he was watching a flock of birds settle on a field. One loud sound might startle them away.

No matter how much he loved someone, he still couldn't share his life with them. He needed solitary time every day to concentrate, and he couldn't stand it when someone's presence threw off his concentration. If he lived with someone he knew he would end up detesting them. Whether it was his parents, a wife, or children. He feared that above all. He wasn't afraid of loving someone. What he feared was growing to hate someone.

No sea of solitude is so deep that it can drown us.

No solitude, no birth.

Nothing could be given birth to without solitude.

Nothing has the power to remind you how alone you are like walking through a conglomeration of empty skyscrapers.

Not too long ago thousands spent their lives as recluses to find spiritual vision in the solitude of nature. Modern man need not become a hermit to achieve this goal, for it is neither ecstasy nor world-estranged mysticism his era demands, but a balance between quantitative and qualitative reality. Modern man, with his reduced capacity for intuitive perception, is unlikely to benefit from the contemplative life of a hermit in the wilderness. But what he can do is to give undivided attention, at times, to a natural phenomenon, observing it in detail, and recalling all the scientific facts about it he may remember. Gradually, however, he must silence his thoughts and, for moments at least, forget all his personal cares and desires, until nothing remains in his soul but awe for the miracle before him. Such efforts are like journeys beyond the boundaries of narrow self-love and, although the process of intuitive awakening is laborious and slow, its rewards are noticeable from the very first. If pursued through the course of years, something will begin to stir in the human soul, a sense of kinship with the forces of life consciousness which rule the world of plants and animals, and with the powers which determine the laws of matter. While analytical intellect may well be called the most precious fruit of the Modern Age, it must not be allowed to rule supreme in matters of cognition. If science is to bring happiness and real progress to the world, it needs the warmth of man's heart just as much as the cold inquisitiveness of his brain.

Nothing stays forever, nobody does rather. All the things, people will leave you one fine day and you’ll be a wanderer in solitude again. You’ll moan again silently through the process of decaying. All your richness or poorness was never really of worth. When you were born, you were dead, respiring to cease. You’re a trader, exchanging everything!

...nothing is more dangerous than solitude: there our imagination, always disposed to rise, taking a new flight on the wings of fancy, pictures to us a chain of beings of whom we seem the most inferior. All things appear greater than they really are, and all seem superior to us. This operation of the mind is quite natural: we so continually feel our own imperfections, and fancy we perceive in others the qualities we do not possess, attributing to them also all that we enjoy ourselves, that by this process we form the idea of a perfect, happy man,—a man, however, who only exists in our own imagination.

Now and then, especially at night, solitude loses its soft power and loneliness takes over. I am grateful when solitude returns.

Now I have to lie on the bed for a few minutes and let the solitude gather round me once more.

Nunca estoy solo. Lo mejor es estar solo, pero no del todo.

Of course, I'm not quite ready to forsake all the products of society, just yet. I have my clothes, my books, etc... But more and more I can see myself leaving much of the rest behind - leaving their makers, and the crucible from which they proceed. If at times, after all, I might benefit by the rays of the sun, must I seek also to reside in its nuclear core?

Observation had always meant more to me than interaction...My sole gift or talent, I believe now, was that places could impress themselves upon me, and I could become part of them with ease.

Often it feels like I am breathing today only because a few years back I had no idea which nerve to cut...

Och med en annan sak blir jag aldrig färdig: Att draga mig tillbaka och sitta i ensamheten i skogen och ha det gott och mörkt omkring mig. Det är den sista glädjen. Det är det höga, det religiösa i ensamheten och mörkret, som gör att man har behov av dem, det är däremot icke därför man söker sig bort från de andra, att det bara är sig själv man härdar ut med, nej, nej. Men det är det mystiska, att allt brusar fjärran och dock så nära en, man sitter i mitten av en allestädes närvarande. Det är väl Gud. Det är väl en själv som är en del av allt.

Of course, these were only dreams. How could a sensible woman leave a happy marriage? All the same, a seductive voice from afar kept breaking into her conjugal peace: it was the voice of solitude.

Often people request prayers for deliverance, inner healing, or physical healing. But more frequently they simply want a man or woman to whom they can turn--not because of what this person is able to do but because of what he or she is: a person who makes them feel wanted, a friend to love them, one who generates an atmosphere of warmth and trust in which they are able to love in return.

Once, I took the penny whistle you gave me and discovered a spot by the roaring falls where I could play as loud as I wanted. I lay in the bifurcated trunk of a low-slung birch tree. The sun peeked through applauding leaves, high overhead.

O lead me onward to the loneliest shade, The darkest place that quiet ever made, Where kingcups grow most beauteous to behold And shut up green and open into gold.

Once a person has become detached from his possessions, his customary duties, his moments of solitude, where is he? What is he?