Edward Abbey Quotes

How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude!

Solitude has its own very strange beauty to it.

He makes a solitude, and calls it - peace!

The thing that I love, especially after sound check, is when I'm in that stadium alone. It's complete silence. I love that.

After the sunset on the prairie, there are only the stars

Silence is best.

With Jackson there was quiet solitude. Just to sit and look at the landscape. An inner quietness. After dinner, to sit on the back porch and look at the light. No need for talking. For any kind of communication.

My favourite country is Finland because once you get to a certain point, you can drive for hours without seeing a single person. I love peace and quiet - something I don't get very often.

Quietness is the beginning of virtue. To be silent is to be beautiful. Stars do not make a noise.

I like a calm life where nobody bothers me.

There is something joyous about not talking.

Each found her greatest safety in silence.

We catched fish, and talked, and we took a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness. It was kind of solemn, drifting down the big still river, laying on our backs looking up at the stars, and we didn’t ever feel like talking loud, and it warn’t often that we laughed, only a kind of low chuckle. We had mighty good weather, as a general thing, and nothing ever happened to us at all, that night, nor the next, nor the next.

I love tranquil solitude.

n OthI n g can s urPas s the m y SteR y of s tilLnes s

At last, in the dead of the night, when the street was very still indeed, Little Dorrit laid the heavy head upon her bosom, and soothed her to sleep. And thus she sat at the gate, as it were alone; looking up at the stars, and seeing the clouds pass over them in their wild flight-which was the dance at Little Dorrit's party.

What a thing it is to sit absolutely alone, in the forest, at night, cherished by this wonderful, unintelligible, perfectly innocent speech, the most comforting speech in the world, the talk that rain makes by itself all over the ridges, and the talk of the watercourses everywhere in the hollows! Nobody started it, nobody is going to stop it. It will talk as long as it wants this rain. As long as it talks I am going to listen.

A large, still book is a piece of quietness, succulent and nourishing in a noisy world, which I approach and imbibe with "a sort of greedy enjoyment," as Marcel Proust said of those rooms of his old home whose air was "saturated with the bouquet of silence."

After a run of several night events, you begin to appreciate the solitude and the quiet backstage.

If there is nothing you can share with other people, try to be close to Things, they will not abandon you; and the nights are still here and the winds that move through the trees and across many lands; everything in the world of Things and animals is still filled with happening, which you can take part in.

There is something about silence and being in the middle of nowhere that is really very attractive.

The night folds her trembling hands over a weary world. Out of a pale blue rises the shining moon. My thoughts are flying to the stars like lonely swans.

So it always is: when you escape to a desert the silence shouts in your ear.

The silence was always the greates temptation.