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.

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.

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

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

The sole business of a seaman onshore who has to go to sea again is to take as much pleasure as he can.

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.

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.

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

You never enjoy the world aright, till the sea itself floweth in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens, and crowned with the stars.

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

He who commands the sea has command of everything.

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.

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