"Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow."

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...the air so still it aches like the place where the tooth was on the morning after you’ve been to the dentist or aches like your heart in the bosom when you stand on the street corner waiting for the light to change and happen to recollect how things once were and how they might have been yet if what happened had not happened.

— Robert Penn Warren