Quotes About Beach

We talked and talked, strolling to the soundtrack of the waves breaking on the shore at Santa Monica beach, where I was living.

No beach today!" D.W. announced the next morning. "I had a dream about Buster," said Arthur. "Why don't you write him a postcard?" Mother suggested. "Why don't we all write postcards?" said Father. "But what do we write about?" said D.W. "We haven't done anything yet!

She was tired of being afraid, so impossibly weary of her own fears that a part of her wanted to sit on the quite beach forever. If she sat in the sand forever,she wouldn't have to face the troubles that often seemed to define her life. As a tear descended her cheek, she wiped it away, turning toward the sea.

They walked side by side along the dark beach toward Monterey, where the lights hung, necklace above necklace against the hill. The sand dunes crouched along the back of the beach like tired hounds, resting: and the waves gently practiced at striking, and hissed a little. The night was cold and aloof, and its warm life was withdrawn, so that it was full of bitter warnings to man that he is alone in the world, and alone among his fellows; that he has no comfort owing him from anywhere.

Kino escuchó el leve romper de las olas de la mañana en la playa. Era estupendo...Kino volvió a cerrar los ojos y atendió a su música interior. Quiza sólo él hiciera eso, y quizá lo hiciera toda su gente. Los suyos habían sido una vez grandes creadores de canciones, hasta el punto de que todo lo que veían o pensaban o hacían u oían, se convertía en canción...

The beach is in our blood. Everyone in our family returns to the beach instinctively, just like the sea turtles.

I played a kid's game, I got to do it at the beach, and I was able to support my family. I consider myself incredibly lucky.

Nobody in my family ever surfed, but they would always bring me to the beach.

My first memory of loving music happened so early. We would always go to the beach in the summer and I would run from blanket to blanket, from family to family and just sing Lion King songs acapella.

It was like a big family, since so many of us brought our kids. We all went surfing. It was so relaxed and easy.

Life is short, wear tropical shirts.

Babies don't need a vacation, but I still see them at the beach... it pisses me off! I'll go over to a little baby and say 'What are you doing here? You haven't worked a day in your life!'

in that blinding light of the beach by which social distinctions are altered,

The child tells me her grandmother showed her how to cure sadness by sucking the juice of an orange, while standing on a beach. Toss the peels onto a wave. Watch the sadness float away.

The beach was empty and dark but she couldn't hear her fear over the call of the surf.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon.

Walk your dogs on the beach that's my luxury. The food's not so good in West Palm, but you can't have it all.

You never know how many friends you have until you rent a cottage at the beach.

Babies don't need a vacation but I still see them at the beach. I'll go over to them and say, "What are you doing here, you've never worked a day in your life!"

Así con la playa vacía, las olas se vuelven imponentes, son ellas solas las que gobiernan el paisaje. En ese sentido me reconozco lamentablemente dócil, maleable. Veo ese mar implacable y desolado, tan orgulloso de su espuma y de su coraje, apenas mancillado por gaviotas ingenuas, casi irreales, y de inmediato me refugio en una irresponsable admiración.

walking along a lonely beach, seen a beautiful shell lying in the sand, but had passed it by; and now, on her return, there it was again, waiting for her to pick it up in her fingers.

The surreal part was, the surf at Newcastle Beach was cranking, so here I was, on a pristine afternoon, getting sunburnt as hell, the day after I'd been snowboarding in a tiny inland town in Canada.

He ran west, away from the rising sun. The wet sand glistened in the morning light and felt spongy beneath his shoes. The tide was out, and the beach sat wide, filled with a fresh assortment of seashells and sand crabs scurrying sideways and jellyfish stranded out of water. Seagulls picked over dead fish, and a pelican stood witness. The wind was down, the sea smooth, and the waves low swells instead of whitecaps. The air was fresh, and the beach was his.

I turn and kick with the first one and feel myself being lifted and thrown towards the beach. It's like wrestling with an old friend, tumbling underneath then coming up for air.