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.

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.

The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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 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.

All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full.

The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.