"In today's age, it has become intolerable to 'withdraw ourselves,' or else this withdrawal must be announced, scheduled, and registered. The secret garden is identified by a sign, which means that it is no longer secret. Gentleness is in this withdrawal, which is accompanied by its secondary virtues: tact, subtlety, reserve, discretion. To not show ourselves, to set ourselves aside, and to guard ourselves are crowned by the last mystery that allows thinking, a certain suspension of identity."
- Anne Dufourmantelle, from Power of Gentleness: Meditations on the Risk of Living, 2018.
How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.
But I have sometimes thought that a woman's nature is like a great house full of rooms: there is the hall, through which everyone passes in going in and out; the drawing-room, where one receives formal visits; the sitting-room, where the members of the family come and go as they list; but beyond that, far beyond, are other rooms, the handles of whose doors perhaps are never turned; no one knows the way to them, no one knows whither they lead; and in the innermost room, the holy of holies, the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes.
- Edith Wharton, The Ghost Stories of Edith Wharton
“How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself."
It's going to be okay, this solitude, this lovelessness, this schoollessness, this unstructure, this floating, this sinking. It's going to suit me. I'm going to mire in it until I'm cooked.
A man can be himself only so long as he is alone; and if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom; for it is only when he is alone that he is really free.