“…alone here, I must first give up the world and all its dear, tantalizing human questions, first close myself away, and then, and only then, open to that other tide, the inner life, the life of solitude, which rises very slowly until…I am open to receive whatever it may bring. It does not always bring happiness, but it always brings life of a special kind. I have waited, sometimes for years, for someone who did not come, whether human or angel. But part of the quality of my life…has been in the waiting itself…Solitude itself is a way of waiting for the inaudible to make itself felt. And that is why solitude is never static and never hopeless.