Quotes About Sea

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride In her sepulchre there by the sea — In her tomb by the side of the sea.

They hadna sail'd a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift11 grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly12 grew the sea.

The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea

Funny sky,' he said, squinting up at the thick-bellied white clouds and the sun shining so hot on them but not breaking through. 'It feels as if there should be a storm,' I said 'but it was like this at haymaking and the weather never properly broke then.' 'If I was at sea I should run for a port,' Ralph said. He was looking towards the horizon where there was a yellow tinge to the sky over the top of the downs.

I am a sailor's tomb. Beside me lies a farmer. Hell is the same, under the land and sea.

I keep staring at the bag in Mrs. Parks's hand: yellows, greens, blues, whites, pastel colors so soft they look as if they have faded in the sea. The washed colors of the sea and sleep. Pajama colors. The colors of baby clothes. In my nose is the smell of my brothers' heads after they are born. Maybe this is why people making journeys buy saltwater taffy. It gives you the lovely dreamy sense that you can start all over again from the beginning.

To dispose first and investigate later is an invitation to disaster, for once radioactive elements have been deposited at sea they are irretrievable. The mistakes that are made now are made for all time.

Si mi voz muriera en tierra, llevadla al nivel del mar y dejadla en la ribera. Llevadla al nivel del mar y nombradla capitana de un blanco bajel de guerra. ¡Oh my v0z condecorada con la insignia marinera: sobre el corazón un ancla y sobre el ancla una estrella y sobre la estrella el viento y sobre el viento la vela!

Si mi voz muriera en tierra llevadla al nivel del mar y dejadla en la ribera. Llevadla al nivel del mar y nombradla capitana de un blanco bajel de guerra. Oh mi voz condecorada con la insignia marinera: sobre el corazón un ancla y sobre el ancla una estrella y sobre la estrella el viento y sobre el viento una vela!

Sal, hortelana, del mar, flotando, sobre tu huerto, desnuda, para llorar por el marinero muerto! Llueve sobre el agua, llueve nieve negra de alga fría. Entre glaciares de nieve, abierta, la tumba mía. ¡Funerales de las olas! ¡El viento, en los arenales! Entre apagadas farolas se hunden mis funerales.

Las palabras abren puertas sobre el mar.

There remained the sea, which is free to all, and particularly alluring to those who feel themselves at war with humanity.

Beyond the slumpstone wall lay a backyard, a swimming pool. Dappled with morning light and tree shadows, the water glimmered in shades of blue from sapphire to turquoise, as might a trove of jewels left by long-dead pirates who had sailed a sea since vanished.

Sometimes, out in the night, on the dark beach, when the sky is clear and the vault of stars makes me feel simultaneously mortal and invincible, when the wind is still and even the sea is hushed as it breaks upon the shore

A sea of lies can't wash away a single grain of truth. Truth is what it is.

China needs to control these sea routes to guarantee its own oil supplies. Although that is understandable, it comes at a cost to Japan. Japan must become engaged now to avoid that calamity.

The sun lowered itself through the roof of clouds, ignited the sea, and filled the big picture window with molten light, so that we did our dealing and dreaming in a brilliant fog.

I had to travel, to distract the enchantments gathered in my brain. Over the sea, that I loved as if she'd wash me clean of stain, I saw the cross of consolation rise. I had been damned by the rainbow. Happiness was my fatality, my remorse, my worm: my life would be forever too immense to be devoted to strength and beauty. O Happiness! its tooth, killing sweetly, warned me at cock-crow

Teddy laughed, heard the sound of it carry off on the sweep of night air and dissolve in the distant surf, as if it had never been, as if the island and the sea and the salt took what you thought you had and...

It's the sea, some men take to it. Some men it takes.

He lay on his side, looking out at the sea. So blue at this time of day, so vibrant as the afternoon died around it. He lay there feeling the breeze on his face and the sea spreading out forever under the darkening sky and he felt so small, so utterly human, but it wasn't a debilitating feeling. It was an oddly proud one. To be a part of this. A speck, yes. But part of it, one with it. Breathing.

When they'd first come out in the morning, a single flounder lay flapping and puffing in the breezeway, one sad, swollen eye looking back toward the sea.

You want to hear my history? Ask the sea.

Here I stand on the brink of war again, a citizen of no place, no time, no country but my own . . . and that a land lapped by no sea but blood, bordered only by the outlines of a face long-loved.