Quote by Lord Byron

Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.


Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where

Summary

This quote, from Lord Byron's poem "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," suggests that in moments of solitude, our emotions are intensely awakened, bringing us a sense of infi$\unicode{FB01}$nite feeling. It highlights the paradoxical notion that despite being physically alone, solitude provides a profound connection to our inner selves and helps us discover our deepest emotions. In these moments, we realize that true loneliness isn't found in physical isolation, but rather in the absence of internal reflection and self-awareness.

Topics

Alone
By Lord Byron
Liked the quote? Share it with your friends.

Random Quotations

They go too far because they do not reflect what personality is. Just as words have two functions - information and creation - so each human mind has two personalities, one on the surface, one deeper down. The upper personality has a name. . . . It is conscious and alert, it does things like dining out, answering letters, etc., and it differs vividly and amusingly from other personalities. The lower personality is a very queer affair. In many ways it is a perfect fool, but without it there is no literature, because unless a man dips a bucket down into it occasionally he cannot produce first-class work. There is something general about it. Although it is inside S. T. Coleridge, it cannot be labelled with his name. It has something in common with all other deeper personalities, and the mystic will assert that the common quality is God, and that here, in the obscure recesses of our being, we near the gates of the Divine. It is in any case the force that makes for anonymity. As it came from the depths, so it soars to the heights, out of local questionings; as it is general to all men, so the works it inspires have something general about them, namely beauty. The poet wrote the poem no doubt, but he forgot himself while he wrote it, and we forget him while we read. What is so wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the man who wrote, and brings to birth in us also the creative impulse. Lost in the beauty where he was lost, we find more than we ever threw away, we reach what seems to be our spiritual home, and remember that it was not the speaker who was in the beginning but the Word.

E. M. Forster, Anonymity: an Enq