Lapham’s Quarterly

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

Alone, alone, all, all alone, / Alone on a wide, wide 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.

Be not the slave of your own past. Plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep, and swim far, so shall you come back with self-respect, with new power, with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old.

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

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

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

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.

It is He who has subdued the ocean so that you may eat of its fresh fish and bring up from its depth ornaments to wear. Behold the ships plowing their course through it. All this, that you may seek His bounty and render thanks.

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.