Writing criticism is to writing fiction and poetry as hugging the shore is to sailing in the open sea.
Seeing that our thirst was increasing and the water was killing us, while the storm did not abate, we agreed to trust to God, Our Lord, and rather risk the perils of the sea than wait there for certain death from thirst.
The sea has now changed from it's natural, to river coloured water, the probable consequence of some streams falling into the bay, or into the ocean to the north of it, through the low land.
From the sea came a boat with some Israeli commando soldiers who took me by the commando boat to the yacht and put me on the yacht. In the yacht I asked people, who are you. And they said we are Israelis, French and British.
The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides.
I was at sea the other day and loads of meat floated past. It was a bit choppy.
Throughout the ages, stories with certain basic themes have recurred over and over, in widely disparate cultures; emerging like the goddess Venus from the sea of our unconscious.
He like a rock in the sea unshaken stands his ground.
As different streams having different sources all mingle their waters in the sea, so different tendencies, various though they appear, crooked or straight, all lead to God.
The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Civil War-when I really think about them they all seem about as likely as the parting of the Red Sea.
In civilized life, law floats in a sea of ethics.
I must confess that my imagination refuses to see any sort of submarine doing anything but suffocating its crew and floundering at sea.
We live on an island surrounded by a sea of ignorance. As our island of knowledge grows, so does the shore of our ignorance.
The question of armaments, whether on land or sea, is the most immediately and intensely practical question connected with the future fortunes of nations and of mankind.
All things on earth point home in old October; sailors to sea, travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.
At night, when the sky is full of stars and the sea is still you get the wonderful sensation that you are floating in space.
About fifteen miles above New Orleans the river goes very slowly. It has broadened out there until it is almost a sea and the water is yellow with the mud of half a continent. Where the sun strikes it, it is golden.
The North Sea was supposed to run out in the 1980s. Then in the 1990s. And now production is still on-line.
Nature is the glass reflecting God, as by the sea reflected is the sun, too glorious to be gazed on in his sphere.
The maid that loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank, and puts her trust in miracles for safety.