The sea hath no king but God alone.

I never even saw the use of the sea. Many a sad heart has it caused, and many a sick stomach has it occasioned! The boldest sailor climbs on board with a heavy soul and leaps on land with a light spirit.

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

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

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.

Many, many steeples would have to be stacked one on top of another to reach from the bottom to the surface of the sea. It is down there that the sea folk live.

And to our age’s drowsy blood / Still shouts the inspiring sea.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.