#ocean

Had it not been for the Atlantic Ocean and the virgin wilderness, the United States would never have been the Land of Promise. ↗

— Herbert Croly

#atlantic ocean #been #had #land #never

Can ye fathom the ocean, dark and deep, where the mighty waves and the grandeur sweep? ↗

— Fanny Crosby

#deep #fathom #grandeur #mighty #ocean

There were times, especially when I was traveling for 'Eat, Pray, Love,' when, I swear to God, I would feel this weight of my female ancestors, all those Swedish farmwives from beyond the grave who were like, 'Go! Go to Naples! Eat more pizza! Go to India, ride an elephant! Do it! Swim in the Indian Ocean. Read those books. Learn a language.' ↗

— Elizabeth Gilbert

#beyond #books #eat #elephant #especially

But now Americans, they felt a sense of peace and protection because they've been separated by so many thousands of miles of ocean. And you know, the fact that it's come to the U.S. like this is so sad, and yet you know, what can you do? It's here. ↗

— Patty Hearst

#been #come #fact #felt #here

Iowa City is okay as Midwestern cities go, but there's no food, no culture, no ocean. ↗

— Elin Hilderbrand

#city #culture #food #go #iowa

You can never turn your back on the ocean. ↗

— Rip Torn

#never #ocean #turn #you #your

Mr. Bird flung his food away and leaped to his feet, glaring around at no one in particular. 'I am not a dog!' he shouted agrily, his gold earrings flashing in the firelight. ↗

— Tim Powers

#nautical #ocean #pirate #pirates #seas

I'm not sure whether Los Angeles borders on the ocean or on oblivion. I always feel that I'm two steps away from the other side when I'm out there. It's more like a vacation place or a place to visit than a place to hunker down. ↗

— Jeffrey Wright

#angeles #away #borders #down #feel

Under the big political umbrella, a man is just like a leaf in the ocean, with no control of his destiny and does not have any choice. ↗

— Zhang Yimou

#big #choice #control #destiny #does

She was crouched in the corner of the room, eating something off the floor. It was the old woman dressed in endless black. When she looked up this time there was no question she was there for me. She had the face of my mother but much older, her ancient decayed mouth coming closer for her good-night kiss. I steeled myself against her putrid smell, the mouthful of bitter dust, but as her lips touched mine it was like biting into a purple black plum whose fruit was brilliant red, like an explosion of intense joy. Its childhood smell wrinkled my nose with pleasure, its sweet juices ran down my chin, turning into a beautiful black ocean where I floated safely, not lost as I had imagined, but securely tucked away deep in space. ↗

— Mary Woronov

#joy #ocean #plum #space #beauty