sea

Always know that at the end of any break up; there__ plenty of fish in the sea, Just go to the edge and catch another one; or dive in to swim with the beautiful one, and tie it to yourself forever.

Life's full of chances to hurt yourself or someone else.

Her fingers moved among barnacles and mussels, blue-black, sharp-edged. Neon red starfish were limp Dalis on the rocks, surrounded by bouquets of stinging anemones and purple bursts of spiny sea urchins.

This was life on the surface of the sea. A calm, placid exterior that could soothe you into submission or swell up and kill you with no notice; beneath it always a dangerous world of life and death.

As he had once said to someone in England, though he did not care to remember whom, he had liked the sight of the sea because it represented his escape from England. And he had escaped.But she had said that perhaps it was from himself he wished to escape and that it could not be done. For wherever he went, he must inevitably take himself along too.

Why the sea?' he asked.I smiled, meeting his eyes and seeing the colour I was describing.'Because it's such a magical colour, so pretty and powerful all at the same time; think about what the water is, how demanding it can be one minute, then how calm and serene it can be the next.

You can__ believe how bleeding scary the sea is! There__, like, whales and storms and shit! They don__ bloody tell you that!

OvermodulationBy Charlotte M Liebel-FawlsYou're a cavity in my oasis,You're a porthole in my sea,You're a stretch of the imagination every time you look at me.You're an ocean in my wineglass,You're a Steinway on the beach,You're a captivating audience, an exciting Rembrandt,A Masterpiece.

_how it would be nice if, for every sea waiting for us, there would be a river, for us. And someone -a father, a lover, someone- able to take us by the hand and find that river -imagine it, invent it- and put us on its stream, with the lightness of one only word, goodbye. This, really, would be wonderful. It would be sweet, life, every life. And things wouldn__ hurt, but they would get near taken by stream, one could first shave and then touch them and only finally be touched. Be wounded, also. Die because of them. Doesn__ matter. But everything would be, finally, human. It would be enough someone__ fancy -a father, a lover, someone- could invent a way, here in the middle of the silence, in this land which don__ wanna talk. Clement way, and beautiful.A way from here to the sea.

Music burst through him, perfect notes he hear rarely. Fire and ice, wind and calm, sky and earth, water and rock all fused together. Joley seemed as wild and turbulent s the sea, yet beneath her fiery passion, at the very core of her, she was as forceful and strong and as constant as the deepest ocean currents. Ilya seemed as calm as a windless sea, yet beneath the surface smoldered a volcano of such explosive magnitude, his power could easily sweep everything from his path. Together they completed each other, his melody and hers merging together into a single, perfect harmony.

May your love for me be likethe scent of the evening seadrifting inthrough a quiet windowso i do not have to runor chase or fall... to feel youall i have to dois breathe.

The ocean exerts an inexorable pull over sea people wherever they are-in a bright-lit, inland city or the dead center of a desert-and when they feel the tug there is no choice but somehow to reach it and stand at its immense, earth-dissolving edge, straightaway calmed.

The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure.

You have the beach but not the sea? No use! You have the sea but not the beach? No use!

The day was cold, and every time the little transparent fans of water swept in and drew back, the wet sand mirrored a clear sky and the sun on its way down.

She liked the sharp salty smell of the air, and the vastness of horizons bounded only by a vault of azure sky above.

So fine was the morning except for a streak of wind here and there that the sea and sky looked all one fabric, as if sails were stuck high up in the sky, or the clouds had dropped down into the sea.

The colour of the sea and the skyAre both blue and yet distinctOne depends on the other And, the other is by love inked_