And the sun came and I lay naked
the long day on the smooth cliffs—
there came a cool breeze from the flame-
coloured sea—

— Edith Södergran, excerpt of Two Poems on the Shore (tr. by Gounil Brown)


One does not find solitude, one creates it. Solitude is created alone. I have created it. Because I decided that here was where I should be alone, that I would be alone to write books. It happened this way. I was alone in this house. I shut myself in—of course, I was afraid. And then I began to love it. This house became the house of writing. My books come from this house. From this light as well, and from the garden. From the light reflecting off the pond. It has taken me twenty years to write what I just said.

— Marguerite Duras, Writing