Best 1173 quotes in «beach quotes» category

You do a little more of a record album these days. See I just wanted to put a few songs in Beaches and we did very well. The album of Beaches went gold.

You don't know who to believe. Like Abraham Lincoln. He said all men were created equal. He never went to a nude beach.

You had every right to be. He raised his eyes to look at her and she was suddenly and strangely reminded of being four years old at the beach, crying when the wind came up and blew away the castle she had made. Her mother had told her she could make another one if she liked, but it hadn't stopped her crying because what she had thought was permanent was not permanent after all, but only made out of sand that vanished at the touch of wind and water.

You have to unhook your seat belt." "That's not true." "I'm afraid it's difficult to walk on the beach if you're strapped to a car seat.

You know if you pick up a beach read, you're excused from the problems in your own life and safe in a world with conflicts you understand, and you know you will get a happy ending.

You know that old Beach Boys song, Bomb Iran? Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran.

You'll go into a fancy hotel and you'll hear this track where someone has sampled 30 seconds of a really good song. Your ear picks it up and you get excited but then it goes into some monotone thing. The Buddha Bar stuff annoys me. I don't need to be on a beach and hear this stuff through little speakers, but people think it creates a "cool vibe".

You'll never find your gold on a sandy beach.

You never know how many friends you have until you rent a house on the beach.

You need to have a lot of close family around you, a lot of friends to keep you honest. Take your time, take a year and just slow everything down a little bit. Get away from the success part, stay with yourself. Go off on a beach somewhere or do something to keep yourself aligned right.

You ride one in to the beach, and it's the most amazing thing you've ever felt. But at some point the water goes back out; it has to. And maybe you're lucky-maybe you're both too busy to do anything drastic. Maybe you're good as friends, so you stay. And then something happens-maybe it's something as big as a baby, or as small as him unloading the dishwasher-and the wave comes back in again. And it does that, over and over. I just think sometimes people forget to wait.

You’re seriously not joking?” – Sundown “Really? How many more times are you going to ask me that? I could be on a beach right now with my wife, son, and daughter, baking in the sun while they frolic and play. Am I? No. I’m here, and I want nothing more than to yank you around with bullshit ’cause this gets me off more than my wife running in a bikini.” – Zarek

You wouldn't want Alan Greenspan to write the instructions for assembling a beach chair.

You still should enjoy the beach and going outside. Having a good time at the beach can still include being smart about protecting your skin because getting burned is no fun at all.

You want to know what I was thinking?...I was thinking that I wished you'd been with me the last couple of days. I mean, I enjoyed getting to know everyone better. We ate lunch together, and the dinner last night was a lot of fun, but it just felt like something was wrong, like I was missing something. It wasn't until I saw you walking up the beach that I realized it was you.

A clock that is moving through space at a very fast speed does not tick at the same rate as a slow-moving watch gently attached to your wrist as you stroll on a tropical beach. The idea of a universal time - a godlike clock that could somehow sit outside our universe and measure, in one go, the movement of everything in it, how its evolution unfolds, how old it is and all that - does not exist.

A school of porpoises broke the surface of the water twenty feet from where we had sat down[...]Each individual porpoise made a sound slightly different from that of any other, so that the school, all twelve of them, flaring and sliding and dancing so near us, formed a kind of woodwind section on the sea's surface or even a single instrument, something unknown and astonishing to man, a celebration of breath itself, of oxygen and sea water and sunlight. They had the eyes of large dogs and their skin was the loveliest, silkiest green imaginable.

And then, some morning in the second week, the mind wakes, comes to life again. Not in a city sense—no—but beach-wise. It begins to drift, to play, to turn over in gentle careless rolls like those lazy waves on the beach. One never knows what chance treasures these easy unconscious rollers may toss up, on the smooth white sand of the conscious mind; what perfectly rounded stone, what rare shell from the ocean floor. Perhaps a channeled whelk, a moon shell, or even an argonaut.

Are you taking us to the beach?" - Dan Cahill

A silent velvet footstep filled me, unwelcome yet so needed. You finally found my hidden shore with grains of time and ocean of the most secret secrets, violet and red; left a trail of deep blue footsteps on my glowing beach of soul, and no matter how many times tides wash the golden sand anew, your prints can never be erased. Each one a shining star in my quiet Universe...

All I cared about that summer were suntans, beaches, boys and booze.

Aloha sunny Hawaiian beach, aloha snowy Mauna Kea.

And maybe life isn't as hard as it seems to be Every day could be a mess , but darling, you see One of the few places you will always find peace Owes its breeze to the constant chaos in the sea...

...and you will hold me with your wondering eyes in the serenity of purest mind at the dreams edge of my quiet golden shores accompanied by the melodies of emerald blue rippling waves where I will always remain voicing harmony in the over the rainbow soothing memories of your heart...

As she always did, when she went over the dune and saw the waves crashing on the shore, her heart leapt inside her in excitement. She still had a love affair with the ocean.

At the end of the day…we are anchoring into the peaceful lagoon, smiling at the majestic sun and its flirting rays, slowly slipping into the glittering ballroom of immense night skies, sipping on the platinum moon liquor under the blues of rippling waves kissing my golden foot hanging over the board of gently rocking boat, and diving into the bed of galaxies whispering magical stories of their eternal lives connecting souls…till the dawn…

Astor smiles back. “Well, you deserve all the compliments I can give you.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

Be yourself, and do what you think is right, or all the rest of it doesn’t mean much.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

BAREFOOT BEACH Take off your shoes- You're on barefoot beach. Relax in the sunshine- Broken only by trees.

Beach girls now, beach girls tomorrow, beach girls till the end of time.

Be careful… not all are what they seem. Some people pretend to be the beach, but they’re actually quicksand.

Brian and Avis deliver their stacks and try to refuse dinner, but the waiters bring them glasses of burgundy, porcelain plates with thin, peppery steaks redolent of garlic, scoops of buttery grilled Brussels sprouts, and a salad of beets, walnuts, and Roquefort. They drag a couple of lawn chairs to a quiet spot on the street and they balance the plates on their laps. Some ingredient in the air reminds Avis of the rare delicious trips they used to make to the Keys. Ten years after they'd moved to Miami they'd left Stanley and Felice with family friends and Avis and Brian drove to Key West on a sort of second honeymoon. She remembers how the land dropped back into distance: wetlands, marsh, lazy-legged egrets flapping over the highway, tangled, sulfurous mangroves. And water. Steel-blue plains, celadon translucence. She and Brian had rented a vacation cottage in Old Town, ate small meals of fruit, cheese, olives, and crackers, swam in the warm, folding water. Each day stirring into the next, talking about nothing more complicated than the weather, spotting a shark off the pier, a mysterious constellation lowering in the west. Brian sheltered under a celery-green umbrella while Avis swam: the water formed pearls on the film of her sunscreen. They watched the night's rise, an immense black curtain from the ocean. Up and down the beach they hear the sounds of the outdoor bars, sandy patios switching on, distant strains of laughter, bursts of music. Someone played an instrument- quick runs of notes, arpeggios floating in soft ovals like soap bubbles over the darkening water.

But during those two months of fog . . . the saddest and the heaviest thing was to stand beside the sea. To be upon the beach yourself, and see the long waves coming in; to know that they are long waves, but only see a piece of them. And to hear them lifting roundly, swelling over smooth green rocks, plashing down in the hollow corners, but bearing on all the same as ever, soft and sleek and sorrowful, till their little noise is over.

But I love you and I want you and I need you. Can’t you see that? This world has nothing to offer me if it doesn’t include you.

But here I am in July, and why am I thinking about Christmas pudding? Probably because we always pine for what we do not have. The winter seems cozy and romantic in the hell of summer, but hot beaches and sunlight are what we yearn for all winter.

Dear Matt, In less than a day, I’ ll be standing on the same sand you stood on so many times before. Well, not the same sand, with the tides and winds and erosion and all of that, but the same symbolic sand. I’m so excited and scared that I can’ t sleep – even though I have to wake up in five hours! You know, I saved every one of your postcards. They’re here in a box under my bed – all the little stories you sent, like little pieces of California. Like the beach glass you guys always brought me. Sometimes I dump it out on my desk and press my ear to the pieces, trying to hear the ocean. Trying to hear you. But you don’ t say anything. Remember how you’ d come back from your vacation on the beach and tell me what it really felt like? What the ocean sounded like at dawn when the beach was deserted? What your hair and skin tasted like after swimming in saltwater all day? How the sand could burn your feet as you walked on it, but if you stuck your toes in, it was cold and wet underneath? How you spent three hours sitting on Ocean Beach just to watch the sun sink into the water a million miles away? If I closed my eyes as you were talking, it was like I was there, like your stories were my stories. In many ways, I feel as if I have memories of you there, too. Do you think that’s crazy? Matt, please don’ t think badly about Frankie’s contest. It’s just a silly game. It’s so Frankie, you know? No, I guess you wouldn’ t. You’ d kill her if you did! She just misses you. We all do. I’ ll look out for her, though. I promise. Please watch over us tomorrow, and for the next few weeks while we’re away. You’ ll be in my thoughts the whole time, like always. I’m going to find some red sea glass for you. I miss you more than you could ever know. Love, Anna

C'est une vie magnifique que d'être un baobab sur une plage.

Dear Waves, You have been restless all your life? Or maybe uneasy? I don't know quite. Oscillating between faiths, swinging between shores! Yet when we sit next to you on those sands, do you never feel like sharing what bothers you so much?

Each night they left the balcony door open so they could hear the surf lapping against the sand. And, once when the wind was high, and the waves pounded against the beach, he'd smoothed her hair and whispered, after having proved it so, 'Sex is like a storm; it gathers, it roars. And then it settles into stillness.

Every time I stand before a beautiful beach, its waves seem to whisper to me: If you choose the simple things and find joy in nature’s simple treasures, life and living need not be so hard.

Endless ocean, blue water, dreamy sky, tranquil beach, love in the air, mind fly high.

En milieu de matinée, je suis allé à la plage. Seul. J'avais besoin de rassembler mes idées. Nous n'étions qu'à Pâques, mais il faisait chaud, et quelques personnes se baignaient. L'eau marronnasse ne me tentait absolument pas. Bon sang, on pourrait quand même changer ça avec un bon logiciel de retouche, ai-je pensé. Merde, ce n'était quand même pas compliqué de virer ce marron chiasseux et de le remplacer par du bleu-turquoise. C'est l'océan, m'a dit le graphiste, le mouvement des marrées brasse le fond, et ça donne cette couleur-là, mais c'est naturel, vous comprenez, ce n'est pas trafiqué, ouais, ça fait naturel ce marron-là, ça fait vrai. J'ai répliqué que le réel on s'en foutait, que ce qui comptait c'était ce qui faisait beau et pas forcément ce qui faisait naturel, que ces deux notions n'étaient pas forcément compatibles, qu'elles l'étaient même rarement, d'ailleurs, que le réel et le naturel étaient rarement ce qui y avait de plus beau.

Everything hurts right now and nothing is helping because as the pain is getting worse — so is the love.

He felt more cheerful, revived by the journey, released from himself and his poor life, uplifted by thoughts of the infinite.

Gentle swells had replaced the angry waves of yesterday. The gentle breakers made their way to shore glinting with green as they somersaulted to shore. The waves showed an edge of lacy foam that caressed the sand. It was peaceful.

Había escuchado su voz, por primera vez, en la isla donde viajó después de abandonar la empresa; estaba en la playa, sufría pero intentaba desesperadamente creer que aquel dolor tendría un final, cuando vio la puesta de sol más hermosa de su vida. Entonces, la desesperación se abatió sobre él con más fuerza que nunca y descendió al abismo más profundo de su alma, porque aquel atardecer merecía ser visto por su mujer y las niñas. Lloró compulsivamente, y presintió que nunca saldría del fondo de aquel pozo.

He could pour himself into my little paper cup heart and my emptiness would finally have a meaning.

He is so beautiful that he makes a part of my soul weep. I don't understand those tears. They aren't like the ones I cry for Alina. They aren't made of water and salt. I think they're made of blood.

Goodbye sunny Hawaiian beach, hello snowy Mauna Kea.

Goodbye snowy Mauna Kea, hello sunny hawaiian beach.