I've never been lonely. I've been in a room — I've felt suicidal. I've been depressed. I've felt awful, awful beyond all, but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me, or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I've never been bothered with because I've always had this terrible itch for solitude. It's being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I'll quote Ibsen: 'The strongest men are the most alone.' I've never thought, 'Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I'll feel good.' No, that won't help. You know the typical crowd: 'Wow, it's Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?' Well, yeah. Because there's nothing out there. It's stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I've never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars because I didn't want to hide in factories. That's all. Sorry for all the millions, but I've never been lonely. I like myself. I'm the best form of entertainment I have. Let's drink more wine!

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About this quote

Many people confuse crowd noise with belonging, but this voice argues that solitude can be a deliberate choice and a source of stability. If you prefer your own company, that's not a defect — it's a way to protect your attention and avoid pointless social drain. Ask yourself where you feel restless: is it a loud room or your own head? Try a simple test tonight: skip one social event, sit somewhere quiet, and notice whether you feel emptier or more grounded.

When to use it

  • At the office holiday party, you step outside to the smoking area and tell a teammate, "I'm fine on my own tonight; I recharge alone."
  • Before the big college game, you leave the cheering section and say to a friend, "I'm going to sit in the library and study — that noise doesn't do anything for me."
  • After a depressive week, you decline a night out and tell your roommate, "I need a quiet night with a bottle of wine, not people."
  • An artist skips a noisy gallery opening and tells their partner, "I'll do better work if I stay home and write tonight."