Evening. By the sea. Lying thus on the sand, the foam almost washing over my hands, I feel the magic of the sea. Behind the golden hills the sun is going down, a ruby jewel in a lurid setting, and there is a faint flush everywhere over the sea & land. To my right the sky has blossomed into vivid rose but to my left the land is hidden by a grey blue mist lightened now here and there by a suggestion of the sun - colour - it is like land seen from a ship a very long way away - dreamland, mirage, enchanted country. Two sea birds high in the air fly screaming towards the light. It beats upon their white breasts, it flames upon their dull wings.

Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. And intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.