Sometimes isolation can be shared.

Solitude is where one discovers one is not alone.

My loneliness was an important part of my own little universe, not some pathological disease that needs to be gotten [sic] rid of.

The psyche of some people, whether through innate structure or via adaption to personal experiences, is uniquely adept for absolute aloneness.

. . . clumsiness is often mated with a love of solitude.

There is no doubt that solitude is a challenge and to maintain balance within it a precarious business. But I must not forget that, for me, being with people or even with one beloved person for any length of time without solitude is even worse. I lose my center. I feel dispersed, scattered, in pieces. I must have time alone in which to mull over my encounter, and to extract its juice, its essence, to understand what has really happened to me as a consequence of it.