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

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.

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.

The most advanced nations are always those who navigate the most.

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

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

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.

Seamen are the nearest to death and the furthest from God.

The life of a sailor is very unhealthy.

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

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

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.

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