What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.
I’m supposed to be, I am an artist. Yes, I’m lonely. But I’m married to my loneliness.
A life without love, no matter how many other things we have, is an empty, meaningless one.
Great eagles fly alone; great lions hunt alone; great souls walk alone-alone with God. Such loneliness is hard to endure, and impossible to enjoy unless God accompanies them. Prophets are lone men; they walk alone, pray alone and God makes them alone.
In solitude, where we are least alone.
Success definitely brings on loneliness. People think you’re lucky, that you have everything. They think you can go anywhere and do anything, but that’s not the point. One hungers for the basic stuff.
I hold my face in my two hands. No, I am not crying. I hold my face in my two hands to keep the loneliness warm – two hands protecting, two hands nourishing, two hands preventing my soul from leaving me in anger.
Be alone, that is the secret of invention; be alone, that is when ideas are born.
We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.
Loneliness and darkness have just robbed me of my valuables.
Loneliness is equal to the radius of one’s awareness.
So therefore I dedicate myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labors, my suffrances, my loneliness, my unique madness, my endless absorption and hunger because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being.
Loneliness, tenderness, high society, notoriety, you fight for the throne and you travel alone.
Solitude was my only consolation – deep, dark, deathlike solitude.
A sad soul can kill quicker than a germ.
Maybe ever’body in the whole damn world is scared of each other.
All great and precious things are lonely.
I’ll never forget how the depression and loneliness felt good and bad at the same time. Still does.
When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.
We’re all lonely for something we don’t know we’re lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we’ve never even met?