Quotes About Island

Dear Beck, It's not your fault you were born on an island. Of course you identify as an island. But, dear girl, you're not an island. Be populated. Be welcoming to love. Love, Beck.

He was murdered in Hawaii.

The galleys...had been dirven onto the rocks of Skagos, the isle of unicorns and cannibals where even the Blind Bastard had feared to land.

You're like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite.

Red Rahloo means nothing here. You will only make the old gods angry. They are watching from their island.

It was no half-hearted spring, this: the whole island vibrated with it as though a great, ringing chord had been struck. Everyone and everything heard it and responded.

Gradually the magic of the island settled over us as gently and clingingly as pollen. Each day had a tranquillity, a timelessness, about it, so that you wished it would never end. But then the dark skin of night would peel off and there would be a fresh day waiting for us, glossy and colourful as a child's transfer and with the same tinge of unreality.

That August, when we arrived, the island lay breathless and sun-drugged in a smouldering, peacock-blue sea under a sky that had been faded to a pale powder-blue by the fierce rays of the sun.

It was originally intended to be a mildly nostalgic account of the natural history of the island

Corfu lies off the Albanian and Greek coast-lines like a long rust-eroded scimitar.

Gradually the magic of the island [Corfu] settled over us as gently and clingingly as pollen.

When Erin first rose from the dark-swelling flood, God blessed the green island, he saw it was good. The Emerald of Europe, it sparkled and shone In the ring of this world, the most precious stone.

Sva od stvarnosti, a sama nestvarna, koja nije ni ono što je bilo ju?e ni ono što ?e biti sutra; nešto kao prolazno ostrvo u poplavi vremena.

A warm and close circle formed, like a new existence, created out of realities and yet itself unreal, which was not what it had been the day before nor what it would be the day after, but like a transient island in the flood of time.

It seemed to me that all things were possible on the island, all tyrannies and cruelties, though in small; and if, in despite of what was possible, we lived at peace with another, surely this was proof that certain laws unknown to us held sway, or else that we had been following the promptings of our hearts all this time, and our hearts had not betrayed us.

I stretched out my arms and laid my palms on the earth, and, yes, the rocking persisted, the rocking of the island as it sailed through the sea and the night bearing into the future its freight of gulls and sparrows and fleas and apes and castaways, all unconscious now, save me. I fell asleep smiling.

I choose rather to tell of the island, of myself and Cruso and Friday and what we three did there: for I am a free woman who asserts her freedom by telling her story according to her own desire.

But anything worth doing is worth doing badly. Like being there by that summer ocean on the other side of the island while love was fading out of her, the stars burning so extravagantly those nights that anyone could tell you they would never last.

I take a nap after supper and dream of the U.S. Navy, a ship anchored near a war scene, at an island, but everything is drowsy as two sailors go up the trail with fishing poles and a dog between them to go make love quietly in the hills: the captain and everybody know they're queer and rather than being infuriated however they're all drowsily enchanted by such gentle love... (p. 119)

You have 60 countries in the world with a terrorist problem. That's two-thirds of the world. We have this group in Basilan, which is a small island in the far south of the Philippines, and the island itself has a population of - what? - 300,000.

'Lost' is driving toward an ending, and that ending is: Are these people getting off this island? What is the nature of this island? What is going to happen to them? What is their ultimate fate? What is their ultimate destiny? Those questions need to get answered.

I gladly accepted the commission but was uncertain about what the end result would be. On the one hand, Cuban music was conquering the world; being heard everywhere, and our small island was already producing one of the popular musical genres of the 20th century.

Sri Lanka is a small island, and the war affected everybody. Everybody knew somebody who was killing or being killed.

The royal navy of England hath ever been its greatest defence and ornament; it is its ancient and natural strength, - the floating bulwark of our island.