Isolation can gnaw at the soul. Solitary confinement is almost universally considered cruel and unusual punishment.
Yet throughout time in all cultures solitude has been sought by philoso- phers, poets and dreamers as the condition in which the most meaningful thoughts can take root and flourish.

This poem reminds me of the peace and comfort that can be found in solitude.

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

By William Butler Yeats

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey, I hear it in the deep heart’s core.