Quotes About Coast

Praise the sea; on shore remain.

From Grenada we soared across the bottom of the Caribbean, staying well offshore of the now-dangerous coast of Venezuela, a once-proud country spiraling into anarchy as its experiment with a populist strongman collapses, standing as a stark warning to other countries.

Spezia offered Leopold almost nothing: his precocity devoured itself there, rejecting the steep sunny coast and nibbling blue edge of the sea that had drowned Shelley. His spirit became crustacean under douches of culture and mild philosophic chat from his Uncle Dee, who was cultured rather than erudite.

In a library in a staid South Coast resort of retirees

John Locke. Now Locke was destroying every trace of his associations and activities in the alleged plot against King Charles II—everything, that is, except a particular manuscript. He took it with him as he left Somerset for the coast. The remaining papers Locke sent to a friend: "What you dislike," he wrote, "you may burn.

Llegamos a la costa con el resto del regimiento y los daneses y los mondieus pegados a los talones, bang-bang y todo el mundo corriendo, maricón el último.

Había una luna terciada, decreciente, que esmerilaba el mar negro y plateado frente a la playa, entre los destellos del faro situado a la derecha y la parte alta de la ciudad vieja, débilmente iluminada, a la izquierda.

So even though 'Sanditon' was filmed in Gloucestershire on the coast, which was gorgeous, it meant I could finish work, get home, and do a few bedtime stories.

When you grow up on an island, what matters is how you stand to the sea.

Upgrading and replacing deficient wastewater systems will help improve service to customers and protect the Gulf, both of which are important for future growth on the coast.

I'm from the gulf coast of Louisiana.

The best thing about living at the beach is that you only have assholes on three sides of you.

California: bordering always on the Pacific and sometimes on the ridiculous. So, why do I live here? Because the sun goes down a block from my house.

The West Coast experience is soft and peripheral, New York is hard and concentrated. California is a small woman saying, "Fuck me." New York is a large man saying, "Fuck you!

Ever since the 1860s when photographers travelled the American West and brought photographs of scenic wonders back to the people on the East Coast of America we have had a North American tradition of landscape photography used for the environment.

My music is roots music: it's a combination of growing up on the coast and mucking around with wood and wooden tones and sounds, salt, sand, fire, dogs, and heaps of brothers.

We thus see that the Greeks of the early ages knew little of any real people except those to the east and south of their own country, or near the coast of the Mediterranean.

I grew up in the Southwest of the U.K., on the coast in Cornwall. I used to keep a marine fish tank outside the house, where we would go down to the tide pools and catch fish and crabs. I think I caught a cuttlefish once.

If I have a Sunday free, I'll go up the coast and spend some time on the beach. I scuba dive and swim and sail. A lot of the things I like are around the water.

The bay was bright blue today, the hard fierce blue of a gas flame. If there was fog rolling in—and there must be, given the insistence of those horns—she couldn't see it from here.

To cross the southern coast of England, west to east, is thus to travel forwards - and at breathtaking chronological speed - in a self-propelled time-machine. With every few hundred yards of eastward progress one passes through hundreds of thousands of years of geological time: a million years of history goes by with every couple of miles march.

Mr. Oldbuck had been so much struck with the deportment of the fisherman and his mother, that, moved by compassion, and perhaps also, in some degree, by that curiosity which induces us to seek out even what gives us pain to witness, he preferred a solitary walk by the coast, for the purpose of again visiting the cottage as he passed.

Mont-Blanc was chugging up the coast, burrowing through the deep waves kicked up by a coastal storm and weighed down with 6 million pounds of high explosives to attack German soldiers.

If the Chicago we'd left behind was all lake-frozen winds, Vancouver was wet springtime chill, with swirls of rain drizzling from banks of black clouds that scraped over the coast with the ponderous density of tectonic plates.