May Sarton, from Journal of a Solitude
[Text ID: Keep busy with survival. Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass.
Let it go.]
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Erika L. Sánchez, from Lessons on Expulsion: Poems; “Amá”
[Text ID: “In One Hundred Years of Solitude, / Márquez wrote that we are birthed / by our mothers only once, but life obligates / us to give birth / to ourselves over and over.”]
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"Midsummer", d.x.yll/From Franz Kafka diaries 1910-1923
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“I need solitude. I need space. I need air. I need the empty fields round me; and my legs pounding along roads; and sleep; and animal existence.”
Virginia Woolf from “The Diary of Virginia Woolf”
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Marina Tsvetayeva
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love returns like a boomerang !! do you hear a boomerang!!!!!
from "Roland Barthes: Love as Language", The Artifice [iD in ALT]
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— July 1, 1913 / Franz Kafka
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To be in favor of solitude is not to be against community or friendship or love. It’s not that being alone is better, just that without the experience of it we block ourselves from discovering something enormously beneficial, perhaps even vital, to selfhood. Who are you when you are not a friend, a partner, a lover, a sibling, a parent, a child? When no one is with you, what do you do, and do you do it differently than if someone was there? It’s hard to see someone fully when another person is always attached to them. More importantly, it’s hard for us to see our own selves if we’re not ever alone.
Amina Cain, A Horse at Night: On Writing
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Solitude over toxicity.
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To be in favor of solitude is not to be against community or friendship or love. It’s not that being alone is better, just that without the experience of it we block ourselves from discovering something enormously beneficial, perhaps even vital, to selfhood. Who are you when you are not a friend, a partner, a lover, a sibling, a parent, a child? When no one is with you, what do you do, and do you do it differently than if someone was there? It’s hard to see someone fully when another person is always attached to them. More importantly, it’s hard for us to see our own selves if we’re not ever alone.
Amina Cain, A Horse at Night
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It is of the essence of joy to reveal itself, while grief tries to hide, sometimes even to deceive. Joy is communicative, social, open-hearted, and desires expression; grief is secretive, silent, solitary, and seeks to retire into itself.
Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or
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Emil Cioran, All Gall is Divided
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Dulce María Loynaz, tr. by James O’Connor, from Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems
[Text ID: “How my solitude becomes you! / It even smells like you, as if you slept in it, as if my solitude were the pillow you rest your head on, the white sheet that keeps you warm in the night. / How my solitude becomes you! / How I find you! How I love you! How I die in you! My solitude!”]
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― Gabriel García Márquez, "One Hundred Years of Solitude"
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