Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board.

The most advanced nations are always those who navigate the most.

We are as near to heaven by sea as by land!

I must be a mermaid, Rango. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living.

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

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

The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening 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.

Ashore it’s wine, women, and song; aboard it’s rum, bum, and concertina.

The power which the sea requires in the sailor makes a man of him very fast, and the change of shores and population clears his head of much nonsense of his wigwam.

I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast, for I intend to go in harm’s way.

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.

The wonderful sea charmed me from the first.