Quotes About Sea

Lillian's recurrent dream of a ship that could not reach the water, that sailed laboriously, pushed by her with great effort, through city streets, had determined her course toward the sea, as if she would give this ship, once and for all, its proper sea bed.

Pero era un sueño. Estábamos envueltos en algodón, en hilos de seda, en telas de araña, en musgo, en niebla, en el mar, en el sabor de una distancia que ha de aniquilarse-

Djuna, you're taking me to the bottom of the sea to live, like a real mermaid. I must be a mermaid, Rango. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living. But you, poor Rango, you're from the mountain, water is not your element. You won't be happy. Men from the mountains always dream of the sea, and above all things I love to travel. Where are we sailing now? - Anaïs Nin, The Four-Chambered Heart

Montalbano recalled how in now distant times, when the sea withdrew, it would leave behind only sweet-smelling algae and beautiful shells that were like gifts to mankind. Now it only gave back our own rubbish.

The air is sharp, and I understand why years ago sea air was prescribed as a tonic for the body.

APLUSTRE  (APLU'STRE)   n.s.[Latin.]The ancient ensign carried in sea vessels. The one holds a sword in her hand, to represent the Iliad, as the other has an aplustre, to represent the Odyssey, or voyage of Ulysses.Addison.

The fair breeze blew, The white foam flew, And the forrow followed free. We were the first to ever burst into the silent sea.

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.

The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.

Captain James Cook was famously credited with conquering scurvy (vitamin C deficiency) by bringing barrels of sauerkraut with him to sea and feeding it to his crews daily.

He knew he would think better clearer thoughts after bathing in the sea. His mother had believed in the good effects of bathing, but she had died so young.

Under the changes of weather it may look like marble or like sea water, black as slate in the fog, white as tufa in sunlight.

And I saw Clara Spohr coming from the Oyster Bar or being washed forth into this sea, dismasted, clinging to her soul in the shipwreck of her beauty.

When Odysseus speaks of the measureless sea and the boundless earth, it is all so true and human, so inwardly and closely felt, and so mysterious. What use is it if I, like any schoolboy, can now parrot that the earth is round? Man needs only a small patch of earth for his pleasures, and a smaller one still to rest beneath.

Opium had artistic significance, you know. Picasso smoked. He said the scent of opium was the least stupid smell in the world, except for that of the sea.

Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so. After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns, we ourselves flash and yearn, and moreover my mother told me as a boy (repeatedly) 'Ever to confess you're bored means you have no inner Resources.' I conclude now I have no inner resources, because I am heavy bored.

Once in a sycamore I was glad all at the top, and I sang. Hard on the land wears the strong sea and empty grows every bed.

When he would have Jonah cast into the sea, God sent a wind by stirring up a whirlwind [Jonah 1:4]. Those who do not think that God controls the government of the universe will say that this was outside the common course. Yet from it I infer that no wind ever arises or increases except by God's express command. Otherwise

we have a right to narrow down our universe ever further and further; until like the world of the Iliad and the Odyssey it is made up of certain simple endurances, enjoyments, mental and physical struggles, surrounded by the washing of the sea, the blowing of the wind, the swaying of the wheat, the falling of the rain, the voyaging of the clouds, and the motions of the sun and moon and dawn and twilight.

Once arrived in the City, he dispersed utterly and gratefully in it like a raindrop fallen into the sea.

And lastly, the vastest circle, the infinity, the center point—Faëry, ladies and gentlemen, where the heroes ride across endless landscapes and sail sea beyond sea and there is no end to possibility—

Bugs would eat the wax. Chaw the old canvas. And one day there will be a mutation, and we will have new ones that can digest concrete, dissolve steel and suck up the acid puddles, fatten on magic plastics, lick their slow way through glass. Then the cities will tumble and man will be chased back into the sea from which he came...