One Can't Live With One's Finger Everlastingly

I Am Afraid That If You Want To Go Down Into History You'll Have To Do Something For It.

The Westerly Wind Asserting His Sway From The South-west Quarter Is Often Like A Monarch Gone Mad, Driving Forth With Wild Imprecations The Most Faithful Of His Courtiers To Shipwreck, Disaster, And Death.

We Looked At The Venerable Stream Not In The Vivid Flush Of A Short Day That Comes And Departs Forever, But In The August Light Of Abiding Memories.

For There Is Nothing Mysterious To A Seaman Unless It Be The Sea Itself, Which Is The Mistress Of His Existence.

Every Age Is Fed On Illusions, Lest Men Should Renounce Life Early And The Human Race Come To An End.