Quotes About Whale

My life is littered with copies of Moby Dick.

We are standing on a whale fishing for minnows

God gave me some weird, beautiful scent that makes men and women go crazy. People compare it to Carvel. It is a whale of a smell.

He: "Whale you be my valentine?" She: "Dolphinitely.

As Nora Ephron said once: "Well, I feel terrible about the metaphor, but what can I do? It's like the whale, you know?" And

We supped at our pints, imagining a whale fighting a giant squid, probably just as thousands of other men in pubs across the land were doing at that moment.

In the center lay the exploded carcass of a lonely sperm whale that hadn't lived long enough to be disappointed with its lot.

They would appear," said Ford doubtfully, "to have turned into a bowl of petunias and a very surprised-looking whale

And since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, this poor innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity as a whale before it then had to come to terms with not being a whale any more.

Come on," insisted Zaphod, "I've found a way in." "In?" said Arthur in horror. "Into the interior of the planet! An underground passage. The force of the whale's impact cracked it open, and that's where we have to go. Where no man has trod these five million years, into the very depths of time itself….

The ground had caved in where the whale had hit it, revealing a network of galleries and passages, now largely obstructed by collapsed rubble and entrails.

Zaphod leaped out of his seat. "Then what's happened to the missiles?" he said. A new and astounding image appeared in the mirrors. "They would appear," said Ford doubtfully, "to have turned into a bowl of petunias and a very surprised-looking whale . . .

appears Strange was a whale on dominoes and to his surprise Cust was pretty hot stuff too. Queer game, dominoes. People go mad about it. They'll play for hours. That's what Strange and Cust did apparently. Cust wanted to go to bed but Strange wouldn't hear of it—swore they'd keep it up until midnight at least. And that's what they did do.

Looking back back at the one and only time I've gone swimming with a whale shark, I realize I was simply unprepared to submit myself so completely to nature. Or rather, humans' interpretation and preservation of nature, by adding 1.8 million pounds of sea salt to a giant tank of water so all these creatures could live and swim together. For science. For entertainment. For spectacle. Perhaps for a little of all three.

They named me Kristin after some whale scientist in Australia, worked on the original translation team.

Fiction had never been Jackson's thing. Facts seemed challenging enough without making stuff up. What he discovered was that the great novels of the world were about three things - death, money and sex. Occasionally a whale.

Adam hid in the Garden of Eden. Moses tried to substitute his brother. Jonah jumped a boat and was swallowed by a whale...Man likes to run from God. It's a tradition.

God gave me some weird, beautiful scent that makes men and women go crazy. People compare it to Carvel. It is a whale of a smell.

Fiction was invented the day Jonas arrived home and told his wife that he was three days late because he had been swallowed by a whale.

Shearwater sighed, like a whale in the night.

When I was very young, I was suitably impressed to learn that, appearances notwithstanding, the whale is not a fish. Nowadays these questions of classification move me less; and it does not worry me unduly when I am assured that history is not a science. This terminological question is an eccentricity of the English language. In every other European language, the equivalent word to 'science' includes history without hesitation.

Nereus spun and expanded, turning into a killer whale, but I grabbed his dorsal fin as he burst out of the water. A whole bunch of tourists went, Whoa! I managed to wave at the crowd. Yeah, we do this every day here in San Francisco.

It wasn't exactly like talking, but it went something like this: Could you give us a ride north, Percy asked, like as close to Portland as possible? Eat seals, the whale responded. Are you seals? No, Percy admitted. I've got a man satchel full of macrobiotic beef jerky, though. The whale shuddered. Promise not to feed me this, and I will take you north. Deal.

we'd been uptown at the Museum of Natural History at the time, safe beneath the blue whale hanging by its dorsal fin, unarmed and pacific, silent as ever, a sentinel in the lurid tabloid nightmare this city's been dreaming.