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.

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.

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

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

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

The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.

The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole 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.

The wonderful sea charmed me from the first.

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

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.

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

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