Quotes About Sea

În ciuda independenÈ›ei ei de suprafa??, simÈ›ea o nevoie esenÈ›ial? de a se ataÈ™a. Toat? viaÈ›a a încercat s? demonstreze contrariul, dovedind-o de fapt. Era ca o anemon? de mare, care se lipeÈ™te la prima atingere.

Time is the flesh and blood of death; death is not a skull, a skeleton, but a clock face, a sun hurtling through a sea of thin gas. A part of you has died since you began to read this sentence.

The Philippines is a collection of seven thousand islands spread over a far-flung archipelago in the South China Sea.

And there, next to me, as the east wind blows in early fall, a season open to great migrations, are those lives, threading the air and waters of the sea, that come out of an incomparable darkness, which is also my own.

She shot from the sky to the bottom of the sea with her son beside her screaming, Sorrow hugged to his chest.

The open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.

Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds Along the pebbled shore of memory! Many old rotten-timber'd boats there be Upon thy vaporous bosom, magnified To goodly vessels; many a sail of pride, And golden keel'd, is left unlaunch'd and dry.

A Poet is the most unpoetical of any thing in existence; because he has no Identity -- he is continually in for -- and filling some other Body -- The Sun, the Moon, the Sea, and Men and Women who are creatures of impulse are poetical and have about them an unchangeable attribute -- the poet has none; no identity -- he is certainly the most unpoetical of all God's creatures.

You know what happens when windmills collapse into the sea? A splash.

Global warming has already triggered a sea level rise that could reach from 6 metres (19.69 ft) to 25 metres (27.34 yards).

Was Daedalus really stricken with grief when Icarus fell into the sea? Or just disappointed by the design failure

Our Faith must be tested. God builds no ships but what He sends to sea.

We're all trapped in a maze of relationships life goes on with or without you. I swim in the sea of the unconscious, I search for your heart, pursuing my true self.

Do you understand?" I could feel her breath on my cheek, not warm at all, but chilled like the depths of the sea. Do you understand? He had told me that she hated to be kept waiting.

And we remembered, too, which god he served. The divinity of light and medicine and plague. Achilles slipped out of the tent when the moon was high. He came back some time later, smelling of the sea. "What does she say?" I asked, sitting up in bed. "She says we are right.

He was not so easy and even as he pretended. Living with him was like standing beside the sea. Each day a different color, a different foam-capped height, but always the same restless intensity pulling towards the horizaon.

I DID NOT GO straight back to the palace. I could not. I went to the olive grove instead, to sit among the twisting trunks and fallen fruits. It was far from the sea. I did not wish to smell the salt now.

All this while I have been a weaver without wool, a ship without the sea. Yet now look where I sail.

I invent her, then, as a woman emerging from the sea. A tall man meets here on the black sand. You've come back, he says. Can barely see her in the sea-light. They make love there, and become horses. As night grows black they become weeds

working the salt-roughened lines. They had

Her blue, almond-shaped eyes - now even more elongated - had altered in appearance; they were indeed of the same colour, but seemed to have passed into a liquid state. So much so that, when she closed them, it was as though a pair of curtains had been drawn to shut out a view of the sea.

I longed for nothing more than to behold a stormy sea, less as a mighty spectacle than as a momentary revelation of the true life of nature;

Unlike the earth, the sea is not separated from the sky; it always harmonizes with the colors of the sky and it is deeply stirred by its most delicate nuances. The sea radiates under the sun and seems to die with it every evening. And when the sun has vanished, the sea keeps longing for it, keeps preserving a bit of its luminous reminiscence in the face of the uniformly somber earth.

The sea refreshes our imagination because it does not make us think of human life; yet it rejoices the soul, because, like the soul, it is an infinite and impotent striving, a strength that is ceaselessly broken by falls, an eternal and exquisite lament.