There's nothing better than having a bottle of beer in your hand in the waves.
Stand through life firm as a rock in the sea, undisturbed and unmoved by its ever-rising waves
Hello toes," I say. They're good toes. I like that they're long and slender and not the slightest bit stubby. I wiggle them, ten unstubby waves that say, "And hello to you, Human Host!" Except they're toes. I'm talking to my toes. Maybe I'm not bored. . . maybe I'm lonely?
To me the sea is a continual miracle; The fishes that swim - the rocks - the motion of the waves - the ships, with men in them, what stranger miracles are there?
He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.
The waves of time wash us all clean.
All is going on as it was wont. The waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery; the dust lies piled upon the shore; the sea-birds soar and hover; the winds and clouds go forth upon their trackless flight; the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away.
Sorrow comes in great waves. . . but rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us, it leaves us. And we know that if it is strong, we are stronger, inasmuch as it passes and we remain.
When gravitational waves reach the earth, the waves stretch and squeeze space. This is a tiny stretch and squeeze. Far too small to detect with ordinary human senses.
My mum always says work goes in waves: you have a good spell and then it dips.
The waves belong to the water. Does the water belong to the waves?
Have mountains, and waves, and skies, no significance but what we consciously give them, when we employ them as emblems of our thoughts?
From my mother came the idea that going down to the sea repaired the spirit. That is where she walked when she was sad or worried or lonely for my father. If she had been crying, she came back composed; if she had left angry with us, she returned in good humor. So we naturally believed that there was a cleansing, purifying effect to be had; that letting the fresh wind blow through you mind and spirits as well as your hair and clothing purged black thoughts; that contemplating the ceaseless motion of the waves calmed a raging spirit.
A mood disorder is dangerous. You've got to get those dramatic waves of highs and lows stabilized. It's dangerous if you don't.
Take no revenge that you have not pondered beneath a starry sky, or on a canyon overlook, or to the lapping of waves and the mewing of a distant gull.
My eyes already touch the sunny hill. Going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; it has inner light, even from a distance- and charges us, even if we do not reach it, into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are; a gesture waves us on answering our own wave. . . but what we feel is the wind in our faces.
And soften'd sounds along the waters die: Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play.
But sometimes, unexpectedly, grief pounded over me in waves that left me gasping; and when the waves washed back, I found myself looking out over a brackish wreck which was illumined in a light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but dead.
Can ye fathom the ocean, dark and deep, where the mighty waves and the grandeur sweep?
Yes, here I am returning, the woman who bore herself to the bottom and back. Who wanted to swim like dolphins, leaping waves and diving. Who wanted only to belong to herself.