When I'm at home in Virginia, I become more hermit-like. I like my own home.
The thoughtful man becomes a hermit in the thoroughfares of the marketplace.
Something most people don't know about me is that I'm quite the loner, I would say. I don't really ever leave my house.
As a recluse I couldn't bear traffic. It had nothing to do with jealousy, I simply disliked people, crowds, anywhere, except at my readings. People diminished me, they sucked me dry.
I was so shy at school that I hardly ever talked, so everybody thought I was kind of a hermit.
Maybe I am becoming a hermit, opening the door for only a few special animals? Maybe my skull is too crowded and it has no opening through which to feed it soup?
I have a reputation for being hermitlike. I'm not. I'm just obsessed with my work.
I had taken a partner once before—but, damnation, no matter how many times you get your fingers burned, you have to trust people. Otherwise you are a hermit in a cave, sleeping with one eye open.
In spite of being professionally gregarious, in my nonpaid hours I'm a bit of a hermit. After being around a crew of fifty people for twelve hours a day on a film set, I really like my alone time, and as always, I abhor small talk.
I'm pretty anti-social. I don't go out.
I took four years off after 'In the Cut' because I wanted to see who I'd be without work. I even tried being a hermit in the wilderness in New Zealand. I stayed in a warden's hut two-and-a-half hours off the Routeburn Track through the fjords on the South Island. It was early winter, so there was no electricity or running water.
I'm a hermit, people rarely see me.
I don't really go out a lot. I kinda live in my own world.
I'm a provincial. I live very much like a hermit: reading, listening to music, working in the cutting room, writing, commercial work - which doesn't take up that much time.
HERMIT, n. A person whose vices and follies are not sociable.
How could I fail to be a lone wolf, and an uncouth hermit, as I did not share one of its aims nor understand one of its pleasures?
Of a young hermit, an old devil. [Fr., De jeune hermite, vieil diable.]
I'm kind of a recluse.
He needed his solitude at times, but he wasn't a hermit. He did a lot of socializing. Sometimes I think it was like he was storing up company for the times when he knew nobody would be around.
You know that book 'Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking', by Susan Cain? That's like my manifesto. The older I get, the more I think I could be a hermit.
I've always been kind of a hermit.
Old noted oak! I saw thee in a mood Of vague indifference; and yet with me Thy memory, like thy fate, hath lingering stood For years, thou hermit, in the lonely sea Of grass that waves around thee!
I'd be perfectly happy living anonymously on a ranch in Kentucky, where the only time someone mentioned me was to discuss the crazy lady up the road with all the taxidermy and jerky.
Normally seven minutes of another person's company was enough to give her a headache so she set things up to live as a recluse. She was perfectly content as long as people left her in peace. Unfortunately society was not very smart or understanding.
Society is no comfort, to one not sociable.
