Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Solitudinem. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Solitudinem Quotes And Sayings by 93 Authors including Horace,Claire Allan,Dexter Palmer,Hermann Hesse,Truth Devour for you to enjoy and share.
Pactum serva" - "Keep the faith
Aoibheann ("Who on earth could pronounce that?
I have already lost the knowledge of the word whose sound has the shape of a soul. But perhaps it's not too late. Come with me. Hurry now. We still have a chance to be young.
passacaglia by the old master Buxtehude.
In search of Magnum opus - perhaps you were divined to be mine.
Come to me, squeeze my hand, know my loneliness, and give me the love, the strength to prevail on the perilous road before me.
Let the pronunciamento of your incognito do the incogitable that enlightens the incognizant.
Jacian Obregon. It sounds like a melody. Or a tragedy.
Fainali, xen, aafte sam 20 iers ov orxogrefkl riform, wi wud hev a lojikl, kohirnt speling in ius xrewawt xe Ingliy-spiking werld.
Akthent on thee latht thyllable.
Ridendo dicere severum. (<>trong>trtrong>. Through what is laughable say what is somber.)
Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only.
You are my peace, my solace, my salvation.
Danders Anders squealed with joy. The most malodorous sound in the world.
Yours most sincerely,
Peter Van Houten
c/o Lidewij Vliegnthart
"WHAT?!" I shouted aloud. "WHAT IS THIS LIFE?
Do not pursue with the terrible scourge him who deserves a slight whip.
[Lat., Ne scutica dignum horribili sectere flagello.]
I can listen no longer in silence.
I must speak to you by such means
As are within my reach.
You pierce my soul.
Sing to me in the language of leviathan, that I may know his name.
I didn't go there looking for you. I went looking for me." My voice is soft, low, and shaky. "But now, here you are, and somehow, in finding you, I think I've found myself.
Seek O mortal, the meaning of life in your innermost silence!
Somewhere on the Earth tonight, my Tylla, there is a Man with a Lever, which, when he pulls it, Will Save The World. The man is now unemployed. His switch gathers dust. He himself plays pinochle.
I liked to tinker with things, like Father. Make things with my hands. I liked to be alone, but not to be lonely. You were my only friend. You and Dutch.
A sound waiting to be a word.
Sound
That stealeth ever on the ear of him
Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim,
And sees the darkness coming as a cloud
Is not its form
its voice
most palpable and loud?
Soundlessly whispering into the void, my lips moving quickly, silently, without ceasing. Calling his name, calling him to me.
Even though there's no use.
Even though it's futile.
Even though it's way past too late.
Christ, don't you ever knock?
It's Lassiter. L-A-S-S-I-T-E-R. How is it possible you're still getting me confused with someone else? Do I need a nametag?
Doctrina sed vim promovet insitam. Instruction enlarges the natural powers of the mind.
Wer rastet, rostet - what rests, rusts.
I am out of humanity's reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speech;I start at the sound of my own.
A man'strong>sstrong> greatestrong>sstrong>t joy istrong>sstrong> crustrong>sstrong>hing histrong>sstrong> enemiestrong>sstrong>.
Panegyrics of a man they had never understood,
Music, and moonlight, and love and <>rong>rorong>...mance." he sang softly to himself, tapping some computer
Stubbornly unsolved, and of the laborious and ongoing task of decipherment and translation. For the curious amateur,
Rememberatorium),
Will you say it?
"Aleksander"
His grin faded and his grey eyes seemed to flicker.
"Again."
"Aleksander
I'm not Beethoven!
One night is awaiting us all, and the way of death must be trodden once.
[Lat., Omnes una manet nox,
Et calcanda semel via leti.]
Prayer is The world in tune, A spirit-voyce, And vocall joyes, Whose Eccho is heaven's blisse.
I can't hear you unless you speak.
Each day, each noise I gather explodes, leaving me to death; to rest in the solace of silence & to be re-born.
The voice of a person thinking, discovering, revising, is ever-present without any loss in grace or ease.
XIX. An Opinion XX. A Plea XXI. Echoing Footsteps XXII. The Sea Still
Heavens! what thick darkness pervades the minds of men.
[Lat., Pro superi! quantum mortalia pectora caecae,
Noctis habent.]
The Man of a Thousand Voices
Labor omnia vincit! Labor conquers all things!
Ser mal profesor sale barato
He recognizes voices within silence. (of Max Sebald)
Discombobulated.
I think Koenigsegg is Swedish for: Oh no, my head has just exploded!
A Voice from I Don't Know WhereVoice-- Mary Oliver
All ears yearn for a voice to lead them through darkness.
Dearest Virgin - um, Dearest Most-Definitely-Not-a-Virgin Lassiter,
Just for a fleeting split second his mind let go of its desperate chant: Nobody can hear me here, and replaced it with a glorious, admirable, proud: Morituri te salutant.
Derevaun Seraun! Derevaun Seraun!" ("The end of pleasure is pain!")
Vorobyaninov, I've got a pressing artistic task for you,' he whispered. 'Go over to the exit from the first-class hallway and stand there. If somebody approaches, start singing, loudly.'
The old man was taken aback. 'But what should I sing?'
'Not "God Save the Tsar," that's for sure!
The thing man seeks is seeking him - the telephone was seeking Bell!
Dr. Turing, of Cambridge University, has pointed out that bobbadah bobbadah hoe daddy yanga langa furjeezama bing jingle oh yeah, Waterhouse says, or words to that effect.
(A name, at last. "Say it loud and there's music playing. Say it soft and it's almost like praying.")
Maktub" (It is written.)
Who is so deafe, as he that will not hear?
the search for a listener is fruitless.
In laboring to be concise, I become obscure.
[Lat., Brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio.]
I found light in the darkness ... or it found me.
Ego non baptiso te in nomine ... but make out the rest yourself.
Built to be lonely
to love the absent.
Find me
Free me
from this
corrosive doubt
futile despair
horror in repose.
I can fill my space
fill my time
but nothing can fill this void in my heart.
Look at the longing, the anguish of a sad fossil world / that cannot find the accent of its first sob.
Blindur er boklaus madur - Blind is the bookless man.
It is often a comfort in misfortune to know our own fate.
[Lat., Saepe calamitas solatium est nosse sortem suam.]
A little light in the dark night
A faint voice is calling you
This way! This way!
This flickering, wavering little voice
Like dew, like a bonfire
The voice of insects
the sound of the water
You can never lose them
once you've heard them ...
This is a man in need. His fear is naked and obvious, but he's lost ... Somewhere in his darkness.
His eyes wide and bleak and tortured. I can soothe him. Join him briefly in the darkness and bring him into the light.
YURIT - discover it!
I'm looking for a miracle, I expect the impossible, I feel the intangible,I see the invisible!
She holds out her hands in entreaty. Join me, she whispers, but she's moving backward, getting fainter ... disappearing before my eyes ... vanishing ... she's gone. No! I shout. No! But I have no voice. I have nothing. I'm mute. Mute ... again.
Search, discover, innovate, know, find... keep looking.
In every country is a word which attempts the sound of cats, to match an inisolable portrait in the clouds to a din in the air. But the constant noise is not an omen of music to come.
Now you are come! You tremble like a star Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set. Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb And mute, I have no tones to answer.
The world tried to catch me but failed.
Solace of Silence
surreal synapses
of a melancholy drone
a dream per chance
she dared not be alone ...
He has gone to a place I cannot find him. I cannot sing him home.
I am Become Text Message. Destroyer Of Words.
I want to see thirst In the syllables, Tough fire In the sound; Feel through the dark For the scream.
Ver reisa ku'chae. Kem surah, shei'tani. (Your soul calls out. Mine answers, beloved.)
I discovered me in the library. I went to find me in the library.
As I'm standing up I hear the black van. I hear it before I see it; blended with the twilight, it appears out of its own sound like a solidification, a clotting of the night.
Within each of us, there is a silence, a silence as vast as the universe. And when we experience that silence, we remember who we are ...
Uniden Homepatrol
Come seek us where our voices sound, We cannot sing above the ground, And while you're searching, ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss, An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took, But past an hour - the prospect's black, Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
amanuensis. A rapt
the mighty harmonies of Beethoven
For sondry scoles maken sotile clerkis;
Womman of manye scoles half a clerk is.
I am that last, that final thing, the body in a white sheet listening,
I open the door to my cottage these evenings on a silence so thick it falls upon me like a blanket. Of all the lonely moments of my day, this is the loneliest. I confess I have sometimes been reduced to muttering my thoughts aloud like a madwoman when the need for a human voice becomes too strong.
The word 'listen' contains the same letters as the word 'silent.'
Thee onnlly wway ttoo ccope withh ssometthingg ddeadly sseriouss iss ttoo ttry ttoo trreatt itt a llittlle lligghtly.
I felt alone on the planet, drifting through the cosmos. With both hands I reached out to the night. There was no answer. Or maybe I just couldn't hear it.
Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us;
Let us journey to a lonely land I know.
There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to guide us,
And the Wild is calling, calling...let us go
Don't repeat this word again
Rene, you want us to find you-don't-know-who and to retrieve his you-don't-know-what for you-won't-tell-me-whom?
What is the voice of song when the world lacks the ear of taste?
Do you know I sometimes think that I'm a man of genius, half finished? The genius has been left out, the faculty of expression is wanting; but the need for expression remains, and I spend my days groping for the latch of a closed door.