Quotes About Sea

The sea has receded!' cried Stephen. 'I am amazed.' 'They tell me it does so twice a day in these parts,' said Jack. 'It is technically known as the tide.

Another roll like that, and we shall have no masts,' said Pullings, as the remaining crockery, the glasses and the inhabitants of the gun-room all shot over to the lee. 'We'll lose the mizen first, Doctor,' - picking Stephen tenderly out of the wreckage - 'and so we'll be a brig; then we'll lose the foremast, so we'll be a right little old sloop; then we'll lose the main, and we'll be a raft, which is what we ought to have begun as.

It would be strange if the weather-gage had to be explained to so old a sea-dog; though I must confess that there was a time when I confused it with that thing which creaks on the roof, showing which way the wind is blowing. Yet could you not obtain this valuable gage by some less arduous means than running a hundred miles and hiding behind a more or less mythical island which no one has ever seen, and that in the dark, a perilous proceeding if ever there was one?

Oh for women at sea to obviate the eternal crosscat-harpings,' he said to himself, 'to do away with the grumlinfuttocks, and to inject a little civilization, even of an equivocal nature, even at the risk of moral deviation.

Still, the farther hills remained as untouched as the sea; high, remote, arid, dark and sterile, poisoned with the sun.

Patrick O'Brian

Patrick O'Brian

Patrick O'Brian

We are sailing under false colours,' whispered Stephen. 'Is not that very heinous?' 'Eh?' 'Wicked, morally indefensible?' 'Bless you, sir, we always do that, at sea. But we'll show our own at the last minute, you may be sure, before ever we fire a gun. That's justice. Look at him, now – he's throwing out a Danish waft, and as like as not he's no more a Dane than my grandam.

The moon's tip appeared above the sea. A gunboat fired: deep, booming note – the voice of an old solitary hound.

Patrick O'Brian

Patrick O'Brian

Patrick O'Brian

Patrick O'Brian

aboard ship, and then hard tack, salt-horse

Pirates of Penzance

Whenever he saw the sea, or a fire, he fell silent, impressed by their elemental force.

For generations fathers had watched earth and sea.

To step off the island was to be drowned in the sea.

Mi loca, pensó. Mi inevitable loca, mi inolvidable loca. Mi imposible loca, afirmó leve mirando el perfil hermosamente verde azulado por un reflejo de pleamar.

To the seeker after pearls, silence is a speaking argument, for no breath comes forth from the diver of the sea.

There is no new wave, only the sea.

The singing of sea shanties as working songs at sea is a lost art

This overload is edging me further out to sea, I need to put some distances between overkill and me.