Quotes About Surf

He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long, golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning.

He'd left the window down and now he could hear the surf on the beach and the cry of a herring gull, the sound naturalists named the long call, the cry which always sounded to him like an inarticulate howl of pain. These were the noises of home.

Surf music is actually just the sound of the waves played on a guitar: that wet, splashy sound.

A week of sweeping fogs has passed over and given me a strange sense of exile and desolation. I walk round the island nearly every day, yet I can see nothing anywhere but a mass of wet rock, a strip of surf, and then a tumult of waves.

The social scene in Daytona Beach was simple. The white cats surf, and the blacks play music.

The children are all crying in their pens and the surf carries their cries away. They are old men who have seen too much, their mouths are full of dirty clothes, the tongues poverty, tears like puss. The surf pushes their cries back. Listen.

I'm a good Canadian girl. I miss all that good stuff. I miss tobogganing and I miss snowboarding, but I've also learned to surf and I've become a water baby which I used to be relatively terrified of the water and I kayak all the time now and I'm able to run year round on the beach which you can't obviously do in Canada.

I remember salt smoke from a beach fire And shadows under the pines— Solid, clean…fixed— Seagulls perched at the tip of land, White upon green… And a wind comes through the pines To sway the shadows; The seagulls spread their wings, Lift And fill the sky with screeches. And I hear the wind Blowing across our beach, And the surf, And I see that our fire Has scorched the seaweed.

love as if you're riding through the storm of the century. You surf the waves, ride the crests, sail through moonlit waters with ice in your rigging… but you love each other as you go. You love each other as if every day is the only day….

Her pace is furious as she walks along the beach, the surf competing with the noise in her head.

Cats have intercepted my footsteps at the ankle for so long that my gait, both at home and on tour, has been compared to that of a man wading through low surf.

So slip on your goggles and your reading trunks, for the sun is high. Let me leave you with one more thought. In what season of the year do we find ourselves - I'm speaking for a moment in terms of the physical world - wading through things? Surf. Kelp. Books. Summer.

Below on the beach, the surf also seemed the same, although the sea was more transparent. In the light of day, the hollow formed by the terrace and the cave seemed as tiny as a nest. They themselves were merely a man and a woman lost in the immensity.

S IS THE SOUND of the sea. Her surge and suck, her spray and surf. Sometimes she seethes. She knows the sound of smooth. With her s, the sea marries the shore, and then there is scamper and slush in the sand. With curling s's the sea rises to stroke the side of her superior, the sky, who loves and meets her in the s of spray, spawned in liquid and air.

4. On the first night of our honeymoon we lie in bed, too exhausted for sex or conversation. Instead, we listen to the surf, wave after wave after wave.

Adventure Bay is a convenient and safe place for any number of ships to take in wood and water during the summer months: but in the winter, when the southerly winds are strong, the surf, on all parts of the shore, makes the landing exceedingly troublesome.

I love to get home and hang out with my family. My brothers and I love spending time at the beach. I enjoy doing all kinds of surf sports and keeping healthy.

As far as the eye could see, black rocks broke through the waves and tore the surf to shreds of white.

The magic that you find in surf music, I think, is really timeless. You know, when I was very young, I was in a surf band. Surf music is an instrumental music that still means a lot to me, not in an nostalgic way, but as something that really gets to the heart of the guitar itself.

I love to get home and hang out with my family. My brothers and I love spending time at the beach. I enjoy doing all kinds of surf sports and keeping healthy.

She walked on, comforted by the surf, by the one perpetual moment of beach-time, the now-and-always of it.

Wind varies in its emotional effect on humans depending on ions in the atmosphere. A hot, dry, dusty wind-generates positive ions that cause increased tension and irritability…on the other hand, waterfalls, pounding surf, and the aftermath of a thunderstorm release negative ions that clear airborne particles, relieve stress, and boost energy.

I was in Jersey when the whole World Trade Center thing happened and I felt powerless. So, I went to Hawaii and did a surf movie. It's kind of fluffy.

You're lucky if I watch 10 minutes of wrestling a month. Most of the time, I channel surf, and I lose interest after a few minutes.