Shore Quotes - Page 7

• Last comes the beverage of the Orient shore, Mocha, far off, the fragrant berries bore. Taste the dark fluid with a dainty lip, Digestion waits on pleasure as you sip.

  Pope Leo XII

  Coffee, Dark, Waiting

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• My story starts at sea... a perilous voyage to an unknown land... a shipwreck... The wild waters roar and heave... The brave vessel is dashed all to pieces, and all the helpless souls within her drowned... all save one... a lady... whose soul is greater than the ocean... and her spirit stronger than the sea's embrace... Not for her a watery end, but a new life beginning on a stranger shore. It will be a love story... for she will be my heroine for all time. And her name will be... Viola.

  William Shakespeare

  Love, Ocean, Sea

  "Fictional character: William Shakespeare". "Shakespeare in Love", 1998.

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• Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.

  Herman Melville

  Inspirational, Funny, Years

  Herman Melville (2008). “Moby-Dick”, p.1, Velvet Element Books

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• Once released from life, having lost it in such violence, I couldn’t calculate my steps. I didn’t have time for contemplation. In violence it is the getting out that you concentrate on. When you begin to go over the edge, life receding from you as a boat recedes inevitably from the shore, you hold on to death tightly, like a rope that will transport you, and you swing out on it, hoping to land away from where you are.

  Alice Sebold

  Swings, Land, Rope

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• Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--- Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--- No---yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever---or else swoon in death.

  John Keats

  Sweet, Art, Stars

  'Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art' (1819)

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• Long have you timidly waded Holding a plank by the shore, Now I will you to be a bold swimmer, To jump off in the midst of the sea, Rise again, nod to me, shout, And laughingly dash with your hair.

  Walt Whitman

  Hair, Sea, Long

  Walt Whitman, Sculley Bradley, Harold W. Blodgett (2008). “Leaves of Grass: A Textual Variorum of the Printed Poems, 1855-1856”, p.76, NYU Press

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• I'm so alive. As I stand facing the beauty of the never-ending Pacific Ocean, a late afternoon breeze blows down from the hills behind. As always, it is a beautiful day. The sun is making its final descent. The magic is about to begin. The skies are ready to burn with brilliance, as it turns from a soft blue to a bright orange. Looking towards the West, I stare in awe at the hypnotic power of the waves. A giant curl begins to take form, then breaks with a thundering clap as it crashes on the shore.

  Dave Pelzer

  Beautiful, Ocean, Blow

  Dave Pelzer (2010). “A Child Called It”, p.53, Hachette UK

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• 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.

  Helen Keller

  Beach, Ocean, Air

  Helen Keller (2016). “The Story of My Life”, p.32, Om Books International

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• The sea complains upon a thousand shores.

  Alexander Smith

  Ocean, Sea, Complaining

  Alexander Smith (1856). “Poems ... Third edition”, p.241

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• I'm a century old, an impossible age, and my brain has no anchor in the present. Instead it drifts, nearly always to the same shore. Today, as most days, it is 1962. The year I discovered love.

  Meg Rosoff

  Years, Anchors, Brain

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• wisdom is like a bottomless pond. You throw stones in and they sink into darkness and dissolve. Her eyes looking back do not reflect anything. I think this to myself even though I love my daughter. She and I have shared the same body. There is a part of her mind that is a part of mine. But when she was born she sprang from me like a slippery fish, and has been swimming away ever since. All her life, I have watched her as though from another shore.

  Amy Tan

  Daughter, Eye, Swimming

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• And when she dreams, she dreams of a girl who was lost at sea but one day found the shore.

  Gabrielle Zevin

  Girl, Dream, Sea

  Gabrielle Zevin (2016). “Elsewhere”, p.167, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• Leaving out the gamblers, the burglars, and the plumbers, perhaps we do put our trust in God after a fashion. But, after all, it is an overstatement. If the cholera or black plague should come to these shores, perhaps the bulk of the nation would pray to be delivered from it, but the rest would put their trust in The Health Board.

  Mark Twain

  God, Fashion, Leaving

  Mark Twain (2016). “Mark Twain's Speeches”, p.95, Xist Publishing

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• O what a blessed day that will be when I shall . . . stand on the shore and look back on the raging seas I have safely passed; when I shall review my pains and sorrows, my fears and tears, and possess the glory which was the end of all!

  Richard Baxter

  Pain, Blessed, Sea

  Richard Baxter (1822). “The Saint's Everlasting Rest: Or, A Treatise of the Blessed State of the Saints in Their Enjoyment of God in Heaven”, p.306

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• I have heard what poets write about women. They rhyme and rhapsodize and lie. I have watched sailors on the shore stare mutely at the slow-rolling swell of the sea. I have watched old soldiers with hearts like leather grow teary-eyed at their king's colors stretched against the wind. Listen to me: these men know nothing of love. You will not find it in the words of poets or the longing eyes of sailors. If you want to know of love, look to a trouper's hands as he makes his music. A trouper knows.

  Patrick Rothfuss

  Kings, Lying, Love You

  Patrick Rothfuss (2011). “The Wise Man's Fear: The Kingkiller Chronicle: Day Two”, p.56, Penguin

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• I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know. Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing: when both have fallen in love but still haven't said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.

  Tove Jansson

  Beautiful, Summer, Twilight

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• Once, when I was younger, I thought I could be someone else. I'd move to Casablanca, open a bar, and I'd meet Ingrid Bergman. Or more realistically - whether actually more realistic or not - I'd tune in on a better life, something more suited to my true self. Toward that end, I had to undergo training. I read The Greening of America, and I saw Easy Rider three times. But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return.

  Haruki Murakami

  Moving, America, Self

  "Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World". Book by Haruki Murakami, September 1991.

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• This cruel age has deflected me, like a river from this course. Strayed from its familiar shores, my changeling life has flowed into a sister channel. How many spectacles I've missed: the curtain rising without me, and falling too. How many friends I never had the chance to meet.

  Anna Akhmatova

  Fall, Rivers, Age

  Anna Andreevna Akhmatova, Stanley Kunitz, Max Hayward (1997). “Избранные Стихи”, p.129, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• I want to know one thing, the way to heaven; how to land safe on that happy shore. God Himself has condescended to teach the way; for this end He came from heaven. He hath written it down in a book. Give me that book! At any price give me the Book of God!

  John Wesley

  Bible, Book, Land

  John Wesley (1980). “John Wesley”, p.89, Oxford University Press

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• Safety is relative. You can be so close to shore that you can practically feel it under your feet, when you suddenly find yourself breaking apart on the rocks.

  Jodi Picoult

  Rocks, Feet, Safety

  Jodi Picoult (2011). “Sing You Home: A Novel”, p.453, Simon and Schuster

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• I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Change, Mother, Daughter

  'The Cloud' (1819)

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• Here I am on the shore of Brittany. Let the cities light up in the evening. My day is done. I am leaving Europe. The sea air will burn my lungs. Lost climates will tan me. I will swim, trample the grass, hung, and smoke especially. I will drink alcohol as strong as boiling metal--just as my dear ancestors did around their fires.

  Arthur Rimbaud

  Strong, Fire, Light

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• The words that reverberate for us at the confines of this long adventure of rebellion are not formulas for optimism, for which we have no possible use in the extremities of our unhappiness, but words of courage and intelligence which, on the shores of the eternal seas, even have the qualities of virtue.

  Albert Camus

  Adventure, Sea, Long

  Albert Camus (2012). “The Rebel: An Essay on Man in Revolt”, p.303, Vintage

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• I trudged around on the muddy river bottom for half an hour, patiently waiting to drown, before giving up and slogging my way back to shore.

  MaryJanice Davidson

  Giving Up, Rivers, Waiting

  MaryJanice Davidson (2004). “Undead and Unwed: A Queen Betsy Novel”, p.24, Penguin

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• Now I felt like I was drifting, sucked down by an undertow, and too far out to swim back to the shore.

  Sarah Dessen

  Swim, Drifting, Dreamland

  Sarah Dessen (2004). “Dreamland”, p.167, Penguin

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