I wasn't a misanthrope and I wasn't a misogynist but I liked being alone. It felt good to sit alone in a small space and smoke and drink. I had always been good company for myself.
It is the misanthrope who alone has clarity. By standing outside the huddles of man,he sees a lot,and what he often sees is the evidence that people are not as smart as dogs think they are. And he wants to see it time and again. In the fog of ambiguities and mysteries,he desperately searches for truths because truth usually shows humanity in a poor light
I am a misanthrope and yet utterly benevolent, have more than one screw loose yet am a super-idealist who digests philosophy more efficiently than food.
What is an atheist, but one who does not, or will not, see in the universe a ruling principle of love; and what a misanthrope, but one who does not, or will not, see in man a ruling principle of kindness?
Let the misanthrope shun men and abjure; the most are rather lovable than hateful.
A hermitage in the forest is the refuge of the narrow-minded misanthrope; a hammock on the ocean is the asylum for the generous distressed.
Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me, not I them.
I have stopped being a misanthrope.
A fine line separates the weary recluse from the fearful hermit. Finer still is the line between hermit and bitter misanthrope.
Whoever is not a misanthrope at forty can never have loved mankind.
A man may make a misanthrope of himself, but he is never one by nature.
I am a misanthrope yet utterly benevolent.
There are very few misanthropes, thank goodness!
Since I no longer expect anything from mankind except madness, meanness, and mendacity; egotism, cowardice, and self-delusion, I have stopped being a misanthrope.
If you ever meet someone who cannot understand why solitary confinement is considered punishment, you have met a misanthrope.
The misanthrope, as an essentially solitary man, is not a man at all: he must be a beast or a god.
Christmas time! That man must be a misanthrope indeed, in whose breast something like a jovial feeling is not roused - in whose mind some pleasant associations are not awakened - by the recurrence of Christmas.
I'm still a recluse. I still hate everyone. I'm still a misanthrope.
. . . love rather than fear. . . this radical philosophy is coming from me, an avowed misanthrope. . . surely there is hope for us all.
My brother asked me once, 'Are you a misanthrope?' And I said, 'No, I just find people irritating. '
