When people say they hate to be alone, I look at them like they just said they hate puppies.

What? You hate the zen-like silence of just existing in your own company? You hate being able to hear the thoughts inside your head? You hate the weird and wonderful ideas you get when you’ve got time to kill, and only yourself to kill it with? I don’t know, man. Hating your own company sounds like a personal problem.

But people who relish alone time—those who light a candle and hold a vigil for the god of solitude— know what’s up. We understand there’s beauty in the moments between distractions, those stretches of silence that show you exactly who you are and what needs to be examined in your life.

Alone is the state during which our strangest, most "hell, this actually works" ideas surface. Alone is where the muse lives.