The sea has no sense and no pity.[У моря нет ни смысла, ни жалости.]
We have fed our sea for a thousand years and she calls us, still unfed.
The sea was our main entertainment. When company came, we set them before it on rugs, with thermoses and sandwiches and colored umbrellas, as if the water—blue, green, gray, navy or silver as it might be—were enough to watch.
Seasickness. To avoid it, all you have to do is think of something else.[MAL DE MER: Pour ne pas l’éprouver, il suffit de penser à autre chose.]
At sea a fellow comes out. Salt water is like wine, in that respect.
