There is nothing more enticing, disenchanting, and enslaving than the life at sea.

You can't breathe dead hippo waking, sleeping, and eating, and at the same time keep your precarious grip on existence.

No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence--that which makes its truth, its meaning--its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream--alone.

I do not know whether I have been a good seaman, but I know I have been a very faithful one.

The end (goal) of art is to figure the hidden meaning of things and not their appearance; for in this profound truth lies their true reality, which does not appear in their external outlines.

Ah! These commercial interests -- spoiling the finest life under the sun. Why must the sea be used for trade -- and for war as well?...It would have been so much nicer just to sail about, with here and there a port and a bit of land to stretch one's legs on, buy a few books and get a change of cooking for a while.

I saw him open his mouth wide. . . as though he had wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him.