#hermit

I once asked a hermit in Italy how he could venture to live alone, in a single cottage, on the top of a mountain, a mile from any habitation? He replied, that Providence was his next-door neighbor. ↗

— Laurence Sterne

#any #asked #cottage #could #habitation

I've always been kind of a hermit. ↗

— Hayden Christensen

#been #hermit #i #kind

Too lazy to be ambitious, I let the world take care of itself. Ten days' worth of rice in my bag; a bundle of twigs by the fireplace. Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment? Listening to the night rain on my roof, I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out. ↗

— Ryokan

#buddhist #hermit #japan #japanese #monk

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. ↗

— Jane Campion

#because #being #cut #early #electricity

If a hermit lives in a state of ecstasy, his lack of comfort becomes the height of comfort. He must relinquish it. ↗

— Jean Cocteau

#comfort #ecstasy #height #hermit #his

If I wasn't in the theater, I would be a hermit. ↗

— Richard Foreman

#i #theater #would

New York has more hermits than will be found in all the forests, mountains and deserts of the United States. ↗

— Simeon Strunsky

#forests #found #hermits #more #mountains

I like to go into a little shell and be a hermit and make music for a while. ↗

— Delta Goodrem

#hermit #i #into #like #little

And if they thought her aimless, if they thought her a bit mad, let them. It meant they left her alone. Marya was not aimless, anyway. She was thinking. ↗

— Catherynne M. Valente

#busy #dreamer #hermit #misfit #thinker

Man was born for society. However little He may be attached to the World, He never can wholly forget it, or bear to be wholly forgotten by it. Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind, the Misanthrope flies from it: He resolves to become an Hermit, and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock. While Hate inflames his bosom, possibly He may feel contented with his situation: But when his passions begin to cool; when Time has mellowed his sorrows, and healed those wounds which He bore with him to his solitude, think you that Content becomes his Companion? Ah! no, Rosario. No longer sustained by the violence of his passions, He feels all the monotony of his way of living, and his heart becomes the prey of Ennui and weariness. He looks round, and finds himself alone in the Universe: The love of society revives in his bosom, and He pants to return to that world which He has abandoned. Nature loses all her charms in his eyes: No one is near him to point out her beauties, or share in his admiration of her excellence and variety. Propped upon the fragment of some Rock, He gazes upon the tumbling waterfall with a vacant eye, He views without emotion the glory of the setting Sun. Slowly He returns to his Cell at Evening, for no one there is anxious for his arrival; He has no comfort in his solitary unsavoury meal: He throws himself upon his couch of Moss despondent and dissatisfied, and wakes only to pass a day as joyless, as monotonous as the former. ↗

— Matthew Gregory Lewis

#contentment #discontentment #hermit #hermits #hopelessness