There is something haunting in the light of the moon.

It is to be remarked that a good many people are born curiously unfitted for the fate waiting them on this earth.

You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appals me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies - which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world - what I want to forget.

For there is nothing mysterious to a seaman unless it be the sea itself, which is the mistress of his existence.

But it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling!

A writing may be lost; a lie may be written; but what the eye has seen is truth and remains in the mind!

I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude - and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core.