Quotes About Ocean

Sharks are being driven to extinction because people want to eat their fins and their flesh.

The ego is an island in the ocean of Hell. You want to get rid of the Hell but you don't want to get rid of that island. Then there is trouble.

Animals in general have always been my passion, project, crusade - whatever you want to call it! The ocean is such a huge, beautiful thing that I feel like we all take for granted.

I like to surf. I like to play guitar. I want to do college classes online. I wanted to do marine biology for a long time, but I don't know.

One Christmas, I just begged my parents like "I want to try to surf on a real board instead of these boogie boards and rafts" and they got me one.

Sorry stared at the coin, feeling echoes of power slam into her skull like ocean waves.

The old sailors who traveled Earth's seas were said to have loved the ocean. The great captains said they were married to the sea or called the sea their mistress. Modern sailors held no such fantasies about outer space. Space did not love or hate, it simply killed anything it touched.

Novelists always set up obstacles for lovers to overcome to make their eventual union all the more sastisfying, but Gomberville portrays love as a long, tedious ocean voyage to someplace miserable.

Sponges grow in the ocean. That just kills me. I wonder how much deeper the ocean would be if that didn't happen.

How much deeper would the ocean be if sponges didn't live there?

Children who paddle where the ocean bed shelves steeply Must take great care they do not, Paddle too deeply.' Thus spake the awful aging couple Whose heart the years had turned to rubble. But the little children, to save any bother, Let it in at one ear and out at the other.

As I stand by the sea, I can learn from the sea. No one can demand of the sea that it bears all our boats, or of the wind that it continually fills our sails. Likewise no one has the right to demand of me that my life should be captive to performing only certain tasks. Not duty above all, but life!

Delmar was almost fishlike in his dank lack of passion, and his ocean eyes were empty of expression. He came alive only in his element, or in the throes of a trance.

Her voice was low, beautiful. When she took off her glasses, her eyes would be large and deep as ocean pools.

Her gaze was without heat, but held the power and might of the ocean itself.

Pharinet, you are the daughter of the waves! Lashing and eroding the rocks of male resolve.

The devices meant to float at sea and capture the waves' power have been destroyed in short order by . . . the waves. "they've all been smashed up in storms," Challenor said, shaking his head.

at the Tangalooma Island Resort in Australia, where wild bottlenoses are regularly fed fish by people standing in the shallows, biologists have documented—on twenty-three occasions—the dolphins reciprocating, swimming up to offer freshly caught tuna, eels, and octopi as gifts.

Australian pro surfer Dave Rastovich, straddling his board waiting for a wave, was astonished to watch a dolphin hurtle itself at a shark that was torpedoing toward him, sending it fleeing. (Coincidentally, only two days earlier Rastovich had launched a nonprofit group, Surfers for Cetaceans, to protect dolphins and whales.)

The jellies living nearest the surface had transparent bodies, but their edges twinkled and flashed, as though traced by fiber-optic cables, blinking and undulating like neon signs. They were delicate; if you weren't looking

One little known fact: The water that spouts out of a whale's blowhole in such a picturesque way reeks like the most toxic fart imaginable.

It was a pod of spinner dolphins, forty or fifty animals, swimming toward me. They materialized from the ocean like ghosts, shimmering in the ether.

I couldn't forget the way the pod had sized me up, or their peculiar squeaking, creaking language, or how ridiculously fun it was to just cruise along with them.

My dad was a really good surfer, and by the time I was 10, he was dragging me out on some good days at Bells. I'd reckon they were solid, 6-foot days, and he'd tell me to wait on the shoulder. I'd see him coming through the barrel, and he'd just scream at me to go. I'd drop in, and he'd give me a hoot from behind - I've always loved it.