Exile Quotes (page 5)
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Solitary. But not in the sense of being alone. Not solitary in the way Thoreau was, for example, exiling himself in order to find out where he was; not solitary in the way Jonah was, praying for deliverance in the belly of the whale. Solitary in the sense of retreat. In the sense of not having to see himself, of not having to see himself being seen by anyone else.
Paul Auster
O my brothers, your nobility should not look backward but ahead! Exiles shall you be from all father- and forefather-lands! Your children's land shall you love: this love shall be your new nobility? the undiscovered land in the most distant sea. For that I bid your sails search and search. In your children you shall make up for being the children of your fathers: thus shall you redeem all that is past.
Friedrich Nietzsche
The flames sawed in the wind and the embers paled and deepened and paled and deepened like the bloodbeat of some living thing eviscerate upon the ground before them and they watched the fire which does contain within it something of men themselves inasmuch as they are less without it and are divided from their origins and are exiles. For each fire is all fires, and the first fire and the last ever to be.
Cormac McCarthy
Gaveston:
I can no longer keepe me from my lord.
Edward:
What Gaveston, welcome: kis not my hand,
Embrace me Gaveston as I do thee:
Why shouldst thou kneele, knowest thou not who I am?
Thy friend, thy selfe, another Gaveston.
Not Hilas was more mourned of Hercules,
Then thou hast beene of me since thy exile.
Christopher Marlowe
The sight of these closed golden houses with their warmth of life awoke in him a bitter, poignant, strangely mixed emotion of exile and return, of loneliness and security, of being forever shut out from the palpable and passionate integument of life and fellowship, and of being so close to it that he could touch it with his hand, enter it by a door, possess it with a word--a word that, somehow, he could never speak, a door that, somehow, he would never open.
Thomas Wolfe
I am a star in the firmamentthat observe the world, despises the worldand consumed in its heat. I am the sea by night in a stormthe sea shouting that accumulates new sinsand to the ancient makes recompense. I am exiled from your worldof pride polite, by pride defrauded, I am the king without crown. I am the passion without wordswithout stones of the hearth, without weapons in the war, is my same force that make me sick
Herman Hesse
How can the mind take hold of such a country? Generations of invaders have tried, but they remain in exile. The important towns they build are only retreats, their quarrels the malaise of men who cannot find their way home. India knows of their trouble. She knows of the whole world's trouble, to its uttermost depth. She calls "Come" through her hundred mouths, through objects ridiculous and august. But come to what? She has never defined. She is not a promise, only an appeal.
E. M. Forster