Without a decisive naval force, we can do nothing definitive, and with it, everything honorable and glorious.

What will not attract a man’s stare at sea?—a gull, a turtle, a flying fish!

The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.

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

But look, our seas are what we make of them, full of fish or not, opaque or transparent, red or black, high or smooth, narrow or bankless—and we are ourselves sea, sand, coral, seaweed, beaches, tides, swimmers, children, waves.

In all the ancient states and empires, those who had the shipping, had the wealth.

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.

The legislator is like the navigator of a ship on the high seas. He can steer the vessel on which he sails, but he cannot alter its construction, raise the wind, or stop the waves from swelling beneath his feet.

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

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.

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

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

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