Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self.
It feels a long way up and down from zero.
Now I become myself. It’s taken time, many years and places.
What is there to do when people die - people so dear and rare - but bring them back by remembering?
The price of being oneself is so high and involves so much ruthlessness toward others (or what looks like ruthlessness in our duty-bound culture) that very few people can afford it.
It is the privilege of those who fear love to murder those who do not fear it!