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Solitude is painful when one is young, but delightful when one is more mature.

Solitude terrifies the soul at twenty.

Being a good host offsets the deprivation and loneliness of my youth.

As I've gotten older I've occasionally found myself nostalgic for earlier periods of solitude, though I realize that's also likely a false nostalgia, as I know there was nothing I wanted more during those periods than to not be alone, whatever that means.

Solitude has its own very strange beauty to it.

The older I grow, the more I find myself alone.

I've lived on my own since I was 18, and I really love living alone. That, to me, is just great.

Solitude sharpens awareness of small pleasures otherwise lost.

Solitude is pleasant. Loneliness is not.

This great misfortune - to be incapable of solitude.