He who commands the sea has command of everything.

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

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.

Tomorrow we take to the mighty sea.

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.

The sole business of a seaman onshore who has to go to sea again is to take as much pleasure as he can.

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

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.

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.

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

Seafarers go to sleep in the evening not knowing whether they will find themselves at the bottom of the sea the next morning.

Take back your golden fiddles, and we’ll beat to open 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.