Sometimes he caught himself listening to the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would read more

Sometimes he caught himself listening to the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would ascent to an angelical stature; and, as he attached the fervent nature of his companion more and more closely to him, he heard the strange impersonal voice which he recognised as his own, insisting on the soul's incurable lonliness. We cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own.

Solitude is the nurse of enthusiasm, and enthusiasm is the true
parent of genius. In all ages solitude has read more

Solitude is the nurse of enthusiasm, and enthusiasm is the true
parent of genius. In all ages solitude has been called for--has
been flown to.

Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named, not good.

Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named, not good.

Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumour of oppression read more

Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumour of oppression and deceit,
Of unsuccessful or successful war,
Might never reach me more!

Whoever gives himself up to solitude,
Ah! he is soon alone.
[Ger., Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergiebt,
read more

Whoever gives himself up to solitude,
Ah! he is soon alone.
[Ger., Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergiebt,
Ach! der ist bald allein.]

In solitude, where we are least alone.

In solitude, where we are least alone.

When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.

When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.

Just think of me and I will be there

Just think of me and I will be there

O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of read more

O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,--
Nature's observatory--whence the dell,
In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.