Quotes About Waves

At times, working in big cities far from nature, I have been sick with nesomania, and I think the reason is this: On the islands one has both the time and the inclination to communicate with the stars and the trees and the waves drifting ashore, one lives more intensely.

crested waves leaping and tossing white spume into the air.

Never underestimate the power of the ocean.

My understanding of romance novels was that it was on the beach with a glass of rose.

To understand the song of life, listen to the melody of wind and ocean and watch the dance of waves and water.

To me the sea is a continual miracle; The fishes that swim - the rocks - the motion of the waves - the ships, with men in them, what stranger miracles are there?

Waves broke, then sighed as if they were searching, not finding, then coming back, never giving up the search, returning again and again.

The waves, the girl in the rain, and that awful, blood-begotten stom. Blood and love and loss.

Does not the Wise Man tell us—"Life is like a ship that passeth through the waves: when it is gone by, the trace thereof cannot be found"?

People like to believe that they have several options open to them, but this is only a justification for attempting to avoid their battles. A warrior understands the folly of seeking escapisms, for he knows the world is pervaded by power, which comes at him like the waves of the sea. He either mounts the crest of those waves and surfs them, or he goes down under.

Britannia needs no bulwarks,No towers along the steep;Her march is o'er the mountain waves,Her home is on the deep.

listening to the distant and imagined echo of waves as they broke along the shore on a stormy night in Rodanthe.

Maybe the silence you move through shaped me, the way a church bell ringing resonates long after the ear ceases to perceive it, the way waves space themselves until they stop. — Nick Flynn, from "Man Dancing with a Paper Cup," Some Ether: Poems . (Graywolf Press June 2, 2015)

When we went into the ocean, I watched his body as he dove into the waves, and it gave me a feeling in my stomach that wasn't an ache but something different.

We are just waves in time and space, changing continuously, and the illusion of individuality is produced through the concatenation of the rapidly succeeding phases of existence. What we define as likeness is merely the result of the symmetrical arrangement of molecules which compose our body.

remembered in bits and pieces. A storm at sea, drowning waves swamping

shores of Whiskey Beach.

been tumbled smooth by waves

Ecce autem gemini a Tenedo tranquilla per alta--- horresco referens---immensis orbibus angues incumbunt pelago, pariterque ad litora tendunt; pectora quorum inter fluctus arrecta iubaeque sanguineae superant undas; pars cetera pontum pone legit, sinuatque immensa volumine terga.

She had known happiness, exquisite happiness, intense happiness, and it silvered the rough waves a little more brightly, as daylight faded, and the blue went out of the sea and it rolled in waves of pure lemon which curved and swelled and broke upon the beach and the ecstasy burst in her eyes and waves of pure delight raced over the floor of her mind and she felt, It is enough! It is enough!

I see nothing. We may sink and settle on the waves. The sea will drum in my ears. The white petals will be darkened with sea water. They will float for a moment and then sink. Rolling over the waves will shoulder me under. Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me.

The waves broke and spread their waters swiftly over the shore. One after another they massed themselves and fell; the spray tossed itself back with the energy of their fall. The waves were steeped deep-blue save for a pattern of diamond-pointed light on their backs which rippled as the backs of great horses ripple with muscles as they move. The waves fell; withdrew and fell again, like the thud of a great beast stamping.

For this is the truth about our soul, he thought, who fish-like inhabits deep seas and plies among obscurities threading her way between the boles of giant weeds, over sun-flickered spaces and on and on into gloom, cold, deep, inscrutable; suddenly she shoots to the surface and sports on the wind-wrinkled waves; that is, has a positive need to brush, scrape, kindle herself, gossiping.

So on a summer's day waves collect, overbalance, and fall; collect and fall; and the whole world seems to be saying 'that is all' more and more ponderously, until even the heart in the body which lies in the sun on the beach says too 'that is all'. Fear no more, says the heart. Fear no more, says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects, lets fall.