Oceanic Quotes
Quotes tagged as "oceanic"
Showing 1-18 of 18
“All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide
like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide;
but a hidden star can still be smiling
at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling”
―
like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide;
but a hidden star can still be smiling
at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling”
―
“I wish to spend a lifetime near a lighthouse where loneliness will be the glimmer of luminous prancing upon ocean waves… rising and falling only for my breathing.”
―
―
“In school I ended up writing three different papers on "The Castaway" section of Moby-Dick, the chapter where the cabin boy Pip falls overboard and is driven mad by the empty immensity of what he finds himself floating in. And when I teach school now I always teach Crane's horrific "The Open Boat," and get all bent out of shape when the kids find the story dull or jaunty-adventurish: I want them to feel the same marrow-level dread of the oceanic I've always felt, the intuition of the sea as primordial nada, bottomless, depths inhabited by cackling tooth-studded things rising toward you at the rate a feather falls.”
― A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again: Essays and Arguments
― A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again: Essays and Arguments
“Oceanic farness treasures tomorrow
Mingled tears lost in the sea of sorrow
Our immortal love will lead us a way
When pale days remain cloudy and grey”
―
Mingled tears lost in the sea of sorrow
Our immortal love will lead us a way
When pale days remain cloudy and grey”
―
“He loved the sea for deep-seated reasons: the hardworking artist's need for repose, the desire to take shelter from the demanding diversity of phenomena in the bosom of boundless simplicity, a propensity—proscribed and diametrically opposed to his mission in life and for that very reason seductive—a propensity for the unarticulated, the immoderate, the eternal, for nothingness. To repose in perfection is the desire of all those who strive for excellence, and is not nothingness a form of perfection?”
― Death in Venice
― Death in Venice
“Every aspect of the sea holds profound metaphorical
power. The outer seascape provides so many corollaries for human
psychology in general, and women’s psychology in particular. This
is the reason it has haunted the myths and legends – the psychology
before psychology – of so many cultures. And it is why water is present in most spiritual rituals. The sea speaks to the soul. Our ancestors
knew that beneath the depths lay much wisdom. They knew that the
way to our own depths was through the depths of the ocean.”
― She of the Sea
power. The outer seascape provides so many corollaries for human
psychology in general, and women’s psychology in particular. This
is the reason it has haunted the myths and legends – the psychology
before psychology – of so many cultures. And it is why water is present in most spiritual rituals. The sea speaks to the soul. Our ancestors
knew that beneath the depths lay much wisdom. They knew that the
way to our own depths was through the depths of the ocean.”
― She of the Sea
“When the tidal waves wildly behaving
My bare feet on the shore busy saving
The calm warmth leaking out of the sand
To let my heart feel peacefully tanned!”
―
My bare feet on the shore busy saving
The calm warmth leaking out of the sand
To let my heart feel peacefully tanned!”
―
“Into the sea I’d love to sink
When with both eyes a shark can blink
Is he a brave fish or a marine man?
Through those closed eyelids my heart will he scan?”
―
When with both eyes a shark can blink
Is he a brave fish or a marine man?
Through those closed eyelids my heart will he scan?”
―
“The amazing face of the motherly mammal of a seal near the oceanic shore has more honesty to offer to our world than the unreliable feature of a two-faced politician.”
―
―
“East Coast oysters are brinier, more mineral. West Coasts are plumper, creamier, sweeter. They're even physically different. One has a flat cup, the other tends to be deeper.”
― Sweetbitter
― Sweetbitter
“She feels good. That, and the scent of his cologne works like magic on her. Something about him reminds her of the ocean. A little cold and dark sometimes, but with moments of shining brilliance, hidden treasures and vibrant life hidden somewhere deep below.
She wants to dive straight in.”
― Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love
She wants to dive straight in.”
― Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love
“A bell chimes as I open the door. It's even more magical inside than out. Spools of ribbon hang from the walls like the atelier of a fairy queen. Tiny jasmine buds lace through the curls of a crystal chandelier. Dresses fill the curves of antique wardrobes, as if this were a princess's closet and not a store.
A group of girls squeal as they browse the gowns. They've dressed almost otherworldly, so unlike the yoga pants and sweatshirts I'm used to in San Francisco. Instead, they're ornamented in seafoam trousers made of silk, lace corsets with ruffles across the bustier, satin slips with rose embroidery. They wear seashells in their hair and around their necks--- an iridescent mollusk held together by a string of pearls, an abalone claw clip that flashes different colors beneath the light, pukas threaded between pastel sea glass.”
― Dance of the Starlit Sea
A group of girls squeal as they browse the gowns. They've dressed almost otherworldly, so unlike the yoga pants and sweatshirts I'm used to in San Francisco. Instead, they're ornamented in seafoam trousers made of silk, lace corsets with ruffles across the bustier, satin slips with rose embroidery. They wear seashells in their hair and around their necks--- an iridescent mollusk held together by a string of pearls, an abalone claw clip that flashes different colors beneath the light, pukas threaded between pastel sea glass.”
― Dance of the Starlit Sea
“There's a self-portrait, her sister's face rendered in aqueous greens and blues. The shimmering surface of a pool, bright turrets of coral visible beneath. So she's familiar with the lush application of paint, the galaxies of color.
But this? This is different.
The painting is enormous, almost as big as the wall behind it. Her sister has painted two female figures, their backs turned on the viewer as they wade into a raging sea. The brushstrokes are frenzied, lavish, and Jess has done something to make their skin gleam, as if it's lifting from the canvas. Lucy feels sure that if she were to reach out and touch the girls' hair--- pale, like her own--- she would feel each whorl, each strand under her fingertips.
Both girls are nude, their legs swallowed by furious splatters of paint. Blue green, purple, black, foamy white.”
― The Sirens
But this? This is different.
The painting is enormous, almost as big as the wall behind it. Her sister has painted two female figures, their backs turned on the viewer as they wade into a raging sea. The brushstrokes are frenzied, lavish, and Jess has done something to make their skin gleam, as if it's lifting from the canvas. Lucy feels sure that if she were to reach out and touch the girls' hair--- pale, like her own--- she would feel each whorl, each strand under her fingertips.
Both girls are nude, their legs swallowed by furious splatters of paint. Blue green, purple, black, foamy white.”
― The Sirens
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