Welcome to Israel, where the beaches are great, the fruit is succulent, the landscape is mesmerizing, and all of it is stolen.
I went to New York and Miami and hung out by the beach, and I love the American boys, so I wrote a song about it.
Three to four times a week, I get up at 7:30 A. M. while the courts are empty at Venice Beach and play full court one-on-one.
The beach is definitely where I feel most at home. It's my oxygen. I forget how much I need it sometimes when I'm away working.
I think it's a very old and deep-seated double standard that holds that when a man writes about family and feelings, it's literature with a capital L, but when a woman considers the same topics, it's romance, or a beach book - in short, it's something unworthy of a serious critic's attention.
He was swept with a sadness, a sadness deep and penetrating, leaving him desolate like someone washed up on a beach, a lone survivor in a world full of strangers.
My friend George and I were walking on the beach in Norfolk, and there were thousands of [razor-clam] shells. They were so beautiful, I thought I had to do something with them. So, we decided to make [a dress] out of them. . . . The shells had outlived their usefulness on the beach, so we put them to another use on a dress. Then Erin [O’Conner] came out and trashed the dress, so their usefulness was over once again. Kind of like fashion, really.
Maxi dresses are also my best friend. They take me from my morning coffee, to the beach, to nighttime.
Yet there is no spring in Florida, neither in boskage perdu, nor on the nunnery beaches.
When I was 2, I used to put pictures of the Manhattan skyline in a little scrapbook. And I used to wear American 'stars and stripe' vests and Daytona Beach stuff and they used to call me 'The Little Yankee. ' Thank you to my producers for having faith in a little nobody from Lancashire.
The true work of art is the one which the seventh wave of genius throws up the beach where the undertow of time cannot drag it back.
We liked the Beach Boys. There was kind of that friendly East Coast, West Coast thing between us. We were always fans. 'God Only Knows' is a brilliant record.
I'm always happy when I'm surrounded by water, I think I'm a Mermaid or I was a mermaid. The ocean makes me feel really small and it makes me put my whole life into perspective… it humbles you and makes you feel almost like you’ve been baptized. I feel born again when I get out of the ocean.
. . . Summer nights held a special kind of loneliness that gave rise to strange imaginings. One walked the beach alone and thought too much.
Growing up in Huntington Beach, you were either a traditional sports athlete, a skateboarder, or a surfer. I got my first skateboard when I was five and skated off and on over the years, did a little BMX racing as a kid, and then in my freshman or sophomore year I started getting a little bit more into skateboarding.
Almost all of "Julie" was shot on location in Carmel, which is a lovely resort town a little south of San Francisco. My co-star was Louis Jourdan, whom I liked very much. An amiable man, very gentle, very much interested in the people around him; we had a good rapport and I found talking to him a joy. . . We would take long walks on the beautiful Carmel beach, chatting by the hour.
You can't find an uglier urban environment than the centre of Hollywood, but then you go to Griffith Park, you go to the beach, you go to the mountains, and it's rural. I live up in the Hollywood Hills and I have frogs, owls, coyotes, mountain lions - but I'm ten minutes from the centre of the city.
There is life in a stone. Any stone that sits in a field or lies on a beach takes on the memory of that place. You can feel that stones have witnessed so many things.
The cycle hit the beach and spun out. Emma went into a rolling crouch as she flew free of it, keeping her elbows in, pushing the air hard out of her lungs. She turned her head as she hit the sand, slapping her palms down to roll herself forward, absorbing the impact of the fall through her arms and shoulders, her knees folding up into her chest. The stars wheeled crazily overhead as she spun, sucking in her breath as her body slowed its rolling. She came to a stop on her back, her hair and clothes full of sand and her ears full of the sound of the wildly crashing ocean.
Perhaps this is the most important thing for me to take back from beach-living: simply the memory that each cycle of the tide is valid; each cycle of the wave is valid; each cycle of a relationship is valid.