The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.
In every outthrust headland, in every curving beach, in every grain of sand there is the story of the earth.
The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.
The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.
Our knowledge is a little island in a great ocean of nonknowledge.
The ocean stirs the heart, inspires the imagination and brings eternal joy to the soul.
When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise, and imposes a rhythm upon everthing in me that is bewildered and confused.
Even the upper end of the river believes in the ocean.
I could never stay long enough on the shore; the tang of the untainted, fresh, and free sea air was like a cool, quieting thought.
Limitless and immortal, the waters are the beginning and end of all things on earth.
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.
On the beach, you can live in bliss.
The sea! The sea! The open sea!, The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea
Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among seaweed and whitened timbers like the homesick refugees of a long war.
Why do we love the sea? It is because it has some potent power to make us think things we like to think.
The three great elemental sounds in nature are the sound of rain, the sound of wind in a primeval wood, and the sound of outer ocean on a beach.
We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came.
The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.
At the beach, life is different. Time doesn't move hour to hour but mood to moment. We live by the currents, plan by the tides, and follow the sun.
We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.
For whatever we lose (like a you or a me), It's always our self we find in the sea.
So that the monotonous fall of the waves on the beach, which for the most part beat a measured and soothing tattoo to her thoughts seemed consolingly to repeat over and over again.
Smell the sea and feel the sky.
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