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.

Why is a ship under sail more poetical than a hog in a high wind? The hog is all nature, the ship is all art.

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

The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.

He who commands the sea has command of everything.

Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board.

The winds and the waves are always on the side of the ablest navigators.

I am ill every time it blows hard, and nothing but my enthusiastic love for the profession keeps me one hour at sea.

The life of a sailor is very unhealthy.

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

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.

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

The wonderful sea charmed me from the first.