Life is a voyage that’s homeward-bound!
Know, thou, that the lines that live are turned out of a furrowed brow.
It is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, everpresent perils of life.
It is not down in any map; true places never are.
It is hard to be finite upon an infinite subject, and all subjects are infinite.
It is better to fail in originality, than to succeed in imitation. He who has never failed somewhere, that man can not be great. Failure is the true test of greatness.
In truth, a mature man who uses hair-oil, unless medicinally, that man has probably got a quoggy spot in him somewhere.
In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without a passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers.
In one word, Queequeg, said I, rather digressively; hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple-dumpling; and since then perpetuated through the hereditary dyspepsias nurtured by Ramadans.
In every case where civilization has in any way been introduced among those whom we call savages, she has scattered her vices, and withheld her blessings.
I try all things; I achieve what I can.
I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.
