For it is in your power to retire into yourself whenever you choose.
Company is a burden to those at home in the solitude of their souls.
But I need solitude–which is to say, recovery, return to myself, the breath of a free, light, playful air.
Silence is fine if I am on my own but it’s not overly sociable if my husband is around!
In the moment of quietness, my strength re-energized
The voice had an extraordinary sadness. Pure from all body, pure from all passion, going out into the world, solitary, unanswered, breaking against rocks-so it sounded.
I find it quite incredible how much peace and quiet a person actually needs in order to devote himself entirely to his thoughts.
You are at my side, dear friends, and God is everywhere. Yet ultimately we are alone, making our way home by the candle of the heart. The light is steady and sure but extends only far enough to see the next step.
Many times the light seems to go out. But another light, one held by a stranger or friend, a book or a song, a blackbird or a wild flower, comes close enough so that we can see our path by its light. And in time we realize that the light we have borrowed was always our own.
What is the sweetness of flowers compared to the savour of dust and confinement?
I think one travels more usefully when they travel alone, because they reflect more.”
(Letter to John Banister, Jr., June 19, 1787)