Quotes
Quotes about Water
The rising world of waters dark and deep.
The conscious water saw its God and blushed.
To fish in troubled waters.
I always like to begin a journey on Sundays, because I shall have the prayers of the Church to preserve all that travel by land or by water.
This business will never hold water.
[Tar water] is of a nature so mild and benign and proportioned to the human constitution, as to warm without heating, to cheer but not inebriate.
Plough the watery deep.
Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground encumbers him with help?
When one that holds communion with the skies
Has fill'd his urn where these pure waters rise,
And once more mingles with us meaner things,
'T is e'en as if an angel shook his wings.
Mynheer Vandunck, though he never was drunk,
Sipped brandy and water gayly.
Call things by their right names.... Glass of brandy and water! That is the current but not the appropriate name: ask for a glass of liquid fire and distilled damnation.
In the midst of this sublime and terrible storm [at Sidmouth], Dame Partington, who lived upon the beach, was seen at the door of her house with mop and pattens, trundling her mop, squeezing out the sea-water, and vigorously pushing away the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was roused; Mrs. Partington's spirit was up. But I need not tell you that the contest was unequal; the Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington.
Bluid is thicker than water.
Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.
The intelligible forms of ancient poets,
The fair humanities of old religion,
The power, the beauty, and the majesty
That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain,
Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring,
Or chasms and watery depths,--all these have vanished;
They live no longer in the faith of reason.
How does the water
Come down at Lodore?
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow,
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below.
There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet
As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.
Adieu! adieu! my native shore
Fades o'er the waters blue.
Once more upon the waters! yet once more!
And the waves bound beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider.
The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss,
And boil in endless torture.
Alas! our young affections run to waste,
Or water but the desert.
O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
Survey our empire, and behold our home!
These are our realms, no limit to their sway,--
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.
