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

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

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.

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

Of all objects that I have ever seen, there is none which affects my imagination so much as the sea or ocean. A troubled ocean, to a man who sails upon it, is, I think, the biggest object that he can see in motion, and consequently gives his imagination one of the highest kinds of pleasure that can arise from greatness.

Ashore it’s wine, women, and song; aboard it’s rum, bum, and concertina.

A fair complexion is unbecoming to a sailor: he ought to be swarthy from the waters of the sea and the rays of the sun.

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

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

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.

Tomorrow we take to the mighty sea.

He who commands the sea has command of everything.

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