Solitude

Don't assume that exclusive always and everywhere means better. It may only mean lonelier. There will always be folks hard selling you the life of the few: the private schools, private planes, private islands, private life. They are trying to convince you that hell is other people. Don't believe it. We are far more frequently each other's shelter and correction, the antidote to solipsism, and so many windows on this world.

Silence is the vital precursor to voice. Gather your voice in your silence. Listen to it in your own head before you give it away.

Be you. Be unique. Be prepared to be alone sometimes when you're unique. It's not a bad thing. You could travel with the sheep, follow everybody else's stuff, but then you're not you.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

The hardest thing in the world is to let yourself know what you know. Because life is noisy. Everything we're told, everything about the way we're raised and educated and bombarded by our culture makes noise. And that noise makes it very hard to hear the ticking of our own hearts.

Silence is the soul's invisibility. We can, of course, conceal ourselves behind lies and sophistries, but when we speak, we are present, however careful our disguise.

The center of the self, itself, is this secret, obsessive, often silly, nearly continuous voice — the voice that is the surest sign we are alive.

To think for yourself — not narrowly, but rather as a mind — you must be able to talk to yourself: well, openly, and at length.

What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.