The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.

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 winds and the waves are always on the side of the ablest navigators.

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

The Mediterranean has the colors of a mackerel, changeable I mean. You don’t always know if it is green or violet—you can’t even say it’s blue, because the next moment the changing light has taken on a tinge of pink or gray.

Be not the slave of your own past. Plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep, and swim far, so shall you come back with self-respect, with new power, with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old.

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

He who travels by sea is nothing but a worm on a piece of wood, a trifle in the midst of a powerful creation. The waters play about with him at will, and no one but God can help him.

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

Being thus arrived in good harbor, and brought safe to land, they fell upon their knees and blessed the God of heaven who had brought them over the vast and furious ocean and delivered them from all the perils and miseries thereof, again to set their feet on the firm and stale earth, their proper element.

Why is a ship under sail more poetical than a hog in a high wind? The hog is all nature, the ship is all art.

Ocean. A body of water occupying about two-thirds of a world made for man—who has no gills.

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.