Best 159 quotes in «sailing quotes» category

Where great whales come sailing by, Sail and sail, with unshut eye, Round the world for ever and aye.

Wisdom sails with wind and time.

Writing criticism is to writing fiction and poetry as hugging the shore is to sailing in the open sea.

A ship on the port always waits for you to sail to the oceans!

You are uneasy; you never sailed with me before, I see.

You have no right to own a yacht if you ask that question.

You saw Britain back in the early days of sailing ships. They were the sea power, the controlled the seas and they had colonies all over the world and then you can look at history and watch the way that their empire kind of crumbled. I certainly don't want that to happen to the United States in space technology.

Zeal without humanity is like a ship without a rudder, liable to be stranded at any moment

All right boys, let’s sail away! Show those bastards how airship pirates fly a ship!

And I shall watch the ferry boats, and they'll get high, On a bluer ocean against tomorrow's sky, And I will never grow so old again, And I will walk and talk, in gardens all wet with rain. - Sweet Thing

A sailor is not defined as much by how many seas he has sailed than by how many storms he has overcome.

A soft landing covers a multitude of sins.

For I say there is no other thing that is worse than the sea is for breaking a man, even though he may a very strong one.

Cold November nights. It feels as if summer never happened. The beauty of setting sun, moon, and stars. Sailing to nowhere, but finding happiness in our togetherness. Never forget what we are. Stranded hearts." Fidelis O. Mkparu (2016), author of 'Love's Affliction' (and soon to be published 'Tears before Exaltation')

Dinner for two; save a booth, lace your boots, fondue and fondles, smiles and smooches. We sailed at sunset; skin and snuggles, moon and moans. I've lost myself in you.

A true sailor is one who finds love in every port.

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…

But that's how it is on a sailing ship, and in this respect its journey parallels that of life: simply knowing where you want to go isn't enough, because life is a windblown voyage, consisting mainly of the detours imposed by alternating calm and storm.

Charter boats are like books with no covers.

Evelyn continued to hold the wheel, recognizing the sensation of being in control of the rudder, while Martin explained how the direction of the wind was key, and how all the elements worked together to affect speed. "It's physics," she said, becoming fascinated by the complexity of the air and water flow working together, and comprehending how the shape of the hull and sails and the size of the keel all played an important part in the boat's movement.

If you feel that you are rotting in a port, nothing can make you happy other than leaving that port and sailing to new ports!

Her eyes betrayed no shock at the sights of the quay as they unfolded – not the sweating deckhands, the prostitutes crowding the ship, the hubbub of stalls, including one where three slaves were for sale, their ankles manacled. She might as well have been walking through a country garden as she moved inexorably away from the water.

He stared at her hard and long, as if he were gauging a cloudbank that might be worth the trouble to sail around rather than through.

His introduction throws me. The only time I can envision "Hi, I'm a surgeon" as a fitting introduction is if I were on a gurney in a stark white room and a man wielding a scalpel was standing over me. Plus, it's been a while since we've talked careers with anyone. Jobs are rarely a topic of conversation anymore--they exist in a place and time too far away to seem interesting. "What do you do?" is not a question asked to define someone, because out here we're all working the same jobs: yachties, mechanics, navigators, weather-readers, fishermen, adventure travelers, storytellers.

I dreamt of land but that was so long ago. I don't even know if he still exists.

If lighthouse becomes a burning candle, flickered upon ocean's insanity. Your sailing heart there anchors to handle the obsessed breeze towards sand dune's vanity.

Hark, now hear the sailors cry, Smell the sea, and feel the sky, Let your soul & spirit fly, into the mystic. - Into the Mystic

If you're a sailor, best not know how to swim. Swimming only prolongs the inevitable—if the sea wants you and your time has come.

I have a hunch the world is darker than I could ever imagine and there is less reason for hope than I am able to see. It makes me grateful there is only so much I can see, and I am left mostly with questions. Grateful, also, that hope is not a reasonable thing. Though I have seen my share of darkness, I am spared perceiving much of it. And here is why I hope beyond a reasonable doubt: I think that as the darkness grows, it makes the dim lights that are left seem brighter. And the darker it gets, the brighter the light appears, until it is so luminous, eventually, even falling shadows are filled with it.

I scold the worries away. As Ma likes to say, you cannot control the wind, but you can control your sails.

I really don't know why it is that all of us are so committed to the sea, except I think it's because in addition to the fact that the sea changes, and the light changes, and ships change, it's because we all came from the sea. And it is an interesting biological fact that all of us have in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea - whether it is to sail or to watch it - we are going back from whence we came. [Remarks at the Dinner for the America's Cup Crews, September 14 1962]

It had occurred to her many times that on board it didn’t matter where you were coming from or where you were heading. Each voyage had its own charisma. Like writing a book – word by word – or crossing a country – step by step – each minute had to be lived moment by moment.

It’s better to be the rooster than the feather duster.

My belief assumed a form that it commonly assumes among the educated people of our time. This belief was expressed by the word "progress." At the time it seemed to me that this word had meaning. Like any living individual, I was tormented by questions of how to live better. I still had not understood that in answering that one must live according to progress, I was talking just like a person being carried along in a boat by the waves and the wind; without really answering, such a person replies to the only important question-"Where are we to steer?"-by saying, "We are being carried somewhere.

Listen, Miss, boats are supposed to float. Even if they break up, they usually still float and show up on a shore somewhere. There have been no reports of wreckage or abandoned boats. At this point, no news is still good news. Don't worry. It's too early to worry.

Maria didn’t fear the sea but, as taught by her father, she respected its power. In her experience the ocean had no intent to drown travellers.

Midnight sail and moonlight. I remember sunset, and gentle breeze. Leaving the city lights behind, and gazing at the moon. Mountains of clouds. Waves slapping our boat. It was easy to forget that love has no direction, or need for compass. Let it guide you to its destination. ~ Fidelis O Mkparu, 2016

my mine , I searching for you .. long time in the trip time walls, searching you in was me.. I never felt lonely, this world always sing even at grave heart's being numb to hear your song is .. What the dealt of this life said so breathe in wind singing sinking sailing in waves, and breathe out find me.. in the rain and rivers but you and me are the ocean, you know ? in long time ago the time in this room make you forget.. keep searching time with me and i. put the name your mine to heart of gold until you coming home, behind the tumble light waiting.

My wife and I said good-bye the next morning in a little sheltered place among the lumber on the wharf; she was one of your women who never like to do their crying before folks. She climbed on the pile of lumber and sat down, a little flushed and quivery, to watch us off. I remember seeing her there with the baby till we were well down the channel. I remember noticing the bay as it grew cleaner, and thinking that I would break off swearing; and I remember cursing Bob Smart like a pirate within an hour. ("Kentucky's Ghost")

On September 6, 1522, a battered ship appeared on the horizon … A small pilot boat was dispatched to lead the strange ship over the reefs … The vessel they were guiding into the harbor was manned by a skeleton crew of just eighteen sailors and three captives, all of them severely malnourished. … Their captain was dead, as were the officers, the boatswains, and the pilots; in fact, nearly the entire crew had perished … the ship, Victoria, … had departed three years earlier. No one knew what had become of her … Despite the journey’s hardships, Victoria and her diminished crew accomplished what no other ship had ever done before. By sailing west until they reached the East, and then sailing on in the same direction, they had fulfilled an ambition as old as the human imagination, the first circumnavigation of the globe

Now I remembered a captain's honor and his only duty: to bring his crew back alive.

Never a ship sails out of bay but carries my heart as a stowaway.

Possibly a man who hates the land should dwell on shore forever. Alienation and the long voyages at sea will compel him once again to dream of it, torment him with the absurdity of longing for something that he loathes.

Paradise” is a suffering word, grossly overused and ineptly devalued in everyday hype and blurb. Yet, tired as it is, it will have to do. Nothing else conveys that sense of place that can inspire a blissful contentment.

She holds you like a whore in the night, but she'll take your soul and not think twice.

She enjoyed the sights and sounds of the dockside – ports were places of freedom.

Read on and I will tell you what to do in the future to avoid getting smashed and find yourself with nothing but little pieces of drift floating around in the ship's wake.

Simply sailing in a new direction you could enlarge the world

She was an ocean full of storms and sailing in her would have made him lose his path forever. But he was not ready to give up without taking that risk. He set his sail and kept moving into the heart of the ocean until she calmed down. And once the storm was over all he saw was a place that no one could imagine and nobody had ever reached. And in the end the journey was worth it.

So there you have it: hearing voices at sea is not a pathological condition. It’s quite normal. Welcome to the world of illusions at sea. Of mirages, looming, towering, stooping and sinking. Of moons that change size, suns that change shape, horizons that bend, lights that change colour, and sounds that play hide and seek. Of waves that speak, ships that effervesce and whales that turn into baby elephants. For the sea has a lobsterpot full of tricks and illusions to confuse and beguile even the most rational 21st century sailor.