I like having deadlines. . . a film release date or a concert premiere date. It channels one's energy into doing often remarkable work that oceans of extra time would probably not improve upon.
I love rains which carry desires to oceans.
The oceans are a way of life. We fish; we sail; we have a robust marine economy.
When you read the history of the human family, it slowly comes to you that all the world's oceans once fell as tears.
The temperature of the tropic oceans is warmer than it's been in 150 years
We inter-breath with the rain forests, we drink from the oceans. They are part of our own body.
Participation is bliss because the whole universe is celebrating. Every moment it is celebrating. It is a great celebration, a constant celebration. Only we are not part of it. We have detached ourselves and are in misery. Man is in misery because of the mind. The flowers are participating in the celebration, the moon is participating, the stars are participating, the earth is participating, the oceans are participating, the air and the clouds - everything is participating in that continuous, eternal celebration.
We write for the same reason that we walk, talk, climb mountains or swim the oceans - because we can. We have some impulse within us that makes us want to explain ourselves to other human beings.
We need to do a better job of keeping oceans healthy.
As long as we relate to the trees, the rivers, the mountains, the fields and the oceans as properties which we can manipulate according to our real or fabricated needs, nature remains opaque, and does not reveal to us its true being.
I grew up flying over oceans and moving and sailing.
About a billion years ago, long before the continents had separated to define the ancient oceans, or their own outlines had been determined, a small protuberance jutted out from the northwest corner of what would later become North America.
Words carry oceans on their small backs.
If we believe that humanity may transcend tooth and claw, if we believe divers races & creeds can share this world as peaceably as the orphans share their candlenut tree, if we believe leaders must be just, violence muzzled, power accountable & the riches of the Earth & its Oceans shared equitably, such a world will come to pass.
What is death but a traversing of eternities and a crossing of cosmic oceans?
The future of nutrition is found in the oceans
Days and rivers are the same; they both flow to the unknown oceans!
We hail the return of the day of thy birth, Fair Columbia! washed by the waves of two oceans Where men from the farthest dominions of earth Rear altars to Freedom, and pay their devotions; Where our fathers in fight, nobly strove for the Right, Struck down their fierce foemen or put them to flight; Through the long lapse of ages, that so there might be An asylum for all in the Land of the Free.
Baseball is the most perfect of games, solid, true, pure and precious as diamonds. If only life were so simple. Within the baselines anything can happen. Tides can reverse; oceans can open. That's why they say, "the game is never over until the last man is out. " Colors can change, lives can alter, anything is possible in this gentle, flawless, loving game.
Gaps don'tjust happen. There is agenerative elementinside them,a welling motion as when coldwaters shoulderup throughwarmer oceans. And where gapschoose to widen,coordinates warp,even in placesconstant sincethe oldest maps.
