The sea hath fish for every man.

We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea—whether it is to sail or to watch it—we are going back whence we came.

Seaward ho! Hang the treasure! It’s the glory of the sea that has turned my head.

I am ill every time it blows hard, and nothing but my enthusiastic love for the profession keeps me one hour at sea.

He that commands the sea is at great liberty and may take as much and as little of the war as he will.

I’ve been bathing in the poem / Of star-infused and milky sea / Devouring the azure greens.

The sea hath no king but God alone.

Seamen are the nearest to death and the furthest from God.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, / Alone on a wide, wide sea!

The bathing was so delightful this morning, and Molly so pressing with me to enjoy myself, that I believe I stayed in rather too long, as since the middle of the day I have felt unreasonably tired. I shall be more careful another time, and shall not bathe tomorrow as I had before intended.

You never enjoy the world aright, till the sea itself floweth in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens, and crowned with the stars.

As to the sea itself, love it you cannot. Why should you? I will never believe again the sea was ever loved by anyone whose life was married to it. It is the creation of omnipotence, which is not of humankind and understandable, and so the springs of its behavior are hidden.

The sea yields action to the body, meditation to the mind, the world to the world, all parts thereof to each part, by this art of arts—navigation.