Steam seems to have killed all gratitude in the hearts of sailors.
Anything capable of being imagined will one day be made reality.
He must have travelled everywhere, at least in the spirit.
But to find, all at once, right before your eyes, that the impossible had been mysteriously achieved by man himself: this staggers the mind!
I am nothing to you but Captain Nemo; and you and your companions are nothing to me but the passengers of the Nautilus.
My house is small, but may heaven grant that it is never full of friends.