There is nothing, for instance, particularly undemocratic about kicking your butler downstairs. It may be wrong, but it is not unfraternal. \u2013 G.K Chesterton<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n T<\/span>here are two ways of being by yourself. One is to be alone \u2013 a fantastic and human desire \u2013 and the other is to be lonely. If you want to be alone, the answer is simple \u2013 find solitude, and impose upon thyself hermitage, for however brief a time. If, however, the weather is too beautiful, joy begins to bore, Holden Caulfield seems healthier than ever before and the desire of your heart is loneliness \u2013 you\u2019d have better luck in a waiting room, crowded bus, or\u00a0McDonald\u2019s\u00a0than in the Sahara desert. For though the Sahara might grant fewer\u00a0opportunities\u00a0to meet another human being, if one were<\/em> to find you, he certainly would not ignore you. You\u2019d surely speak. You\u2019d encourage each other, dwell on lives left, find commonalities, inform the other of any nearby\u00a0oases \u2013 in short, you would appreciate the presence of another human being. But there\u2019s something about today \u2013 and I do believe it is a modern fault \u2013 that makes our crowds and lines lonely, that twists our human propensity to appreciate each other into an indwelling annoyance with the-world-besides-us. In the deepest caves and darkest tundras, no heavier silence exist than that between twenty Americans waiting for a train. People, people everywhere, and not a drop of communion.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/div>\n
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