The loneliness you get by the sea is personal and alive. It doesn't subdue you and make you feel abject. It's stimulating loneliness.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Solitude is not the same as loneliness. Solitude is a solitary boat floating in a sea of possible companions.
For all that has been said of the love that certain natures (on shore) have professed for it, for all the celebrations it has been the object of in prose and song, the sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness.
Who knows what true loneliness is - not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.
Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.
Loneliness is and always has been the central and inevitable experience of every man.
At the innermost core of all loneliness is a deep and powerful yearning for union with one's lost self.
The whole conviction of my life now rests upon the belief that loneliness, far from being a rare and curious phenomenon, peculiar to myself and to a few other solitary men, is the central and inevitable fact of human existence.
Loneliness is proof that your innate search for connection is intact.
I love the sea, and I never mind when it's rough.
To me, the sea is like a person - like a child that I've known a long time. It sounds crazy, I know, but when I swim in the sea, I talk to it. I never feel alone when I'm out there.