Looking through the wall with my x-ray vision I said, "I can see the neighbors." She said, "Maybe they don't want to be your presentation." I turned and looked through her. "I can see your heart and it beats." "Oh," she whispered. "What else can those eyes of yours see?" Dazzled, I said, "Your soul is as old as the universe." She smiled. "Now tell me something I don't know."
(Found Poem in Michel de Montainge’s “Of Solitude” translated by George B. Ives)
Our sickness is of the soul; now the soul can not escape from itself. We have a soul that can be turned to itself; it can be its own company; it has the means of attack and of defence, of giving and of receiving. Let us not fear the becoming dull in this solitude from wearisome inactivity; in lonely places be to yourself a multitude. The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.