Life is the desert life the solitude death joins us to the great majority.

In my solitude I have pondered much on the incomprehensible subjects of space eternity life and death.

With Jackson there was quiet solitude. Just to sit and look at the landscape. An inner quietness. After dinner to sit on the back porch and look at the light. No need for talking. For any kind of communication.

Mass communication radio and especially television have attempted not without success to annihilate every possibility of solitude and reflection.

When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world and droop. Sick of its business of its pleasures tired how gracious how benign is solitude.

The best thinking has been done in solitude. The worst has been done in turmoil.

I needed to be in the bush. There I find solitude and beauty and purity and focus. That's where my heart lies.

Solitude has its own very strange beauty to it.

Solitude gives birth to the original in us to beauty unfamiliar and perilous - to poetry. But also it gives birth to the opposite: to the perverse the illicit the absurd.

As I've gotten older I've occasionally found myself nostalgic for earlier periods of solitude though I realize that's also likely a false nostalgia as I know there was nothing I wanted more during those periods than to not be alone whatever that means.