Death is only a launching into the region of the strange Untried; it is but the first salutation to the possibilities of the immense Remote, the Wild, the Watery, the Unshored.
Consider all this; and then turn to this green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself?
But oh! shipmates! on the starboard hand of every woe, there is a sure delight; and higher the top of that delight, than the bottom of the woe is deep.
But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God—so, better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety!
Book! you lie there; the fact is, you books must know your places. You’ll do to give us the bare words and facts, but we come in to supply the thoughts.
Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.
Be sure of this, O young ambition, all mortal greatness is but disease.
And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid.
Ah, God! what trances of torments does that man endure who is consumed with one unachieved revengeful desire. He sleeps with clenched hands; and wakes with his own bloody nails in his palms.
A noble craft, but somehow a most melancholy! All noble things are touched with that.
A laugh’s the wisest, easiest answer to all that’s queer.
A good laugh is a mighty good thing, and rather too scarce a good thing; the more’s the pity.
