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Lionel Fisher
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in Hong Kong, British Crown Colony, The United Kingdom
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More books by Lionel Fisher…
Kelly O'Rourke's Showdown with Loneliness
Kelly O'Rourke capitulated to her own dread of loneliness in a desolate island cabin. A constantly-on-the-go Los Angeles film producer, who didn't want a romantic involvement but couldn't reconcile her desperate need for others, O'Rourke gave up her L.A. apartment and moved with her two cats to a tiny island on Lake Kawaguesaga in Wisconsin's rugged north woods.
"I needed to depend on myself, to sq Read more of this blog post »
"I needed to depend on myself, to sq Read more of this blog post »
“People who need people are threatened by people who don’t. The idea of seeking contentment alone is heretical, for society steadfastly decrees that our completeness lies in others.”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
“I don't believe in funerals.
Funerals aren't for the dead. The dead are gone. They couldn't care less.
Funerals are for the living.
They're for the people trying to feel better about the things they could have said, the things they could have done for the dead while they were still alive.
The dead don't give a damn.
The dead couldn't care less about what's being said to them, about them.
Hell, they're dead.
The dead know the living aren't there for them, but for themselves. To feel better, to feel less guilty, less regretful, to feel loved, better appreciated by all the other living people who, like them, should have paid attention to the dead while it still mattered, while they were still alive.
So screw funerals.
Forget the dead.
Tend to the living.
Before it's too late.
Before they're dead”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
Funerals aren't for the dead. The dead are gone. They couldn't care less.
Funerals are for the living.
They're for the people trying to feel better about the things they could have said, the things they could have done for the dead while they were still alive.
The dead don't give a damn.
The dead couldn't care less about what's being said to them, about them.
Hell, they're dead.
The dead know the living aren't there for them, but for themselves. To feel better, to feel less guilty, less regretful, to feel loved, better appreciated by all the other living people who, like them, should have paid attention to the dead while it still mattered, while they were still alive.
So screw funerals.
Forget the dead.
Tend to the living.
Before it's too late.
Before they're dead”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
“When was the last time someone was so overjoyed to see you, so brimming with love and affection that they literally ran to greet you? A dog will do that for you--ten, twenty, thirty times a day.”
―
―
“Putting thoughts into words is vastly different from putting truth into words. For words are not truth. As ardently as writers sort and select and polish their words, at the end of the day they are still words. They are not, in themselves, truth. However carefully we choose our words, no matter how eloquently we compile and conjoin and convey them, they remain just words, merely signposts that point to the truth, as Eckhart Tolle put it. Just as preachers, politicians, PR spin masters and the media can’t create truth by writing or speaking words they say are true, authors can't validate truth by putting it into print. And the rest of us can't know it by simply hearing or reading the words. We can only find our way to truth by following the signposts and ultimately believing. It all comes down to believing, to faith, for there is no proof this side of the big dirt nap.”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
“It scares us more than anything except death. Being alone.
Our fear of solitude is so ingrained that given the choice of being alone or being with others we opt for safety in numbers, even at the expense of lingering in painful, boring, or totally unredeeming company.
And yet more of us than ever are alone. While many more Americans have their solo lifestyles thrust on them--people die, people go away--a huge and growing population is choosing to be alone.
Nonetheless, we persist in the conviction that a solitary existence is the harshest sentence life can mete to us.
We loathe being alone--anytime, anywhere, for too long, for whatever reason. From childhood we're conditioned to accept that when alone we instinctively ache for company, that loners are outsiders yearning to get in rather than people who are content with their own company.
Alone, we squander life by rejecting its full potential and wasting its remaining promises.
Alone, we accept that experiences unshared are barely worthwhile, that sunsets viewed singly are not as spectacular, that time spent apart is fallow and pointless.
And so we grow old believing we are nothing by ourselves, steadfastly shunning the opportunities for self-discovery and personal growth that time alone could bring us.”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
Our fear of solitude is so ingrained that given the choice of being alone or being with others we opt for safety in numbers, even at the expense of lingering in painful, boring, or totally unredeeming company.
And yet more of us than ever are alone. While many more Americans have their solo lifestyles thrust on them--people die, people go away--a huge and growing population is choosing to be alone.
Nonetheless, we persist in the conviction that a solitary existence is the harshest sentence life can mete to us.
We loathe being alone--anytime, anywhere, for too long, for whatever reason. From childhood we're conditioned to accept that when alone we instinctively ache for company, that loners are outsiders yearning to get in rather than people who are content with their own company.
Alone, we squander life by rejecting its full potential and wasting its remaining promises.
Alone, we accept that experiences unshared are barely worthwhile, that sunsets viewed singly are not as spectacular, that time spent apart is fallow and pointless.
And so we grow old believing we are nothing by ourselves, steadfastly shunning the opportunities for self-discovery and personal growth that time alone could bring us.”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
“I was always a stranger at home, in all the places I ever lived.”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
“I'm a writer. I write because I don't talk so good.”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
“Did I think I'd ever find someone I could live with, she asked me, and I said yes, and she said who, and I said me with a vagina and cleavage a little dog could get lost in.”
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
― Celebrating Time Alone: Stories Of Splendid Solitude
