Quotes about Ocean

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
Were every blade of grass a quill,
Were the world of parchment made,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor would the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

A warm breeze blew through my window like a gentle wave lapping the sandy shore in summer at low tide, and as I took in a breath of air that blanketed my body like tall grass in a field I felt for just that moment in time, like I did when I was a child. I felt that I had not one worry, not one burden, nothing was on my mind accept that breeze that made the curtains swell like balloons.

Mankind owns four things
that are no good at sea:
rudder, anchor, oars
and the fear of going down.

Man is not an island...man is an ocean...

It's the same with all the thoughts and feelings and other experiences that arise in the ocean of ourselves. The ocean never resists them, it never creates a negative reference point saying "Damn , that seaweed is still there. There must be something terribly wrong with me".  When they arise, the ocean just sees them for what they are and they pass away naturally.

We carry oceans inside of us, in our blood and our sweat. And we are crying the oceans, in our tears.”

Never turn your back on the ocean.

Waters from many rivers continually flow into the ocean but the ocean never overfills.
In a like manner, desires and attachments constantly flow into the mind of the Illuminated One, but he or she , like the ocean in its deepest depths, is totally still and never disturbed.

 "We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us.  When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect."

Enigmas
      
You've asked me what the lobster is weaving
there with his golden feet?
I reply, the ocean knows this.
You say, what is the ascidia waiting for in its transparentbell?
What is it waiting for?
I tell you it is waiting for time, like you.
You ask me whom the Macrocystis alga hugs in its arms?
Study, study it, at a certain hour, in a certain sea I know.
You question me about the wicked tusk of the narwhal,
and I reply by describing
how the sea unicorn with the harpoon in it dies.
You enquire about the kingfisher's feathers,
which tremble in the pure springs of the southern tides?
Or you've found in the cards
a new question touching on
the crystal architecture
of the sea anemone,
and you'll deal that to me now?
You want to understand
the electric nature of the ocean spines?
The armored stalactite that breaks as it walks?
The hook of the angler fish, the music stretched out
in the deep places like a thread in the water?

I want to tell you the ocean knows this,
that life in its jewel boxes
is endless as the sand, impossible to count, pure,
and among the blood-colored grapes
time has made the
petal
hard and shiny, made the jellyfish full of light
and untied its knot, letting its musical threads fall
from a horn of plenty made of infinite mother-of-pearl.

I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on ahead
of human eyes, dead in those darknesses,
of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudes
on the timid globe of an orange.

I walked around as you do, investigating
the endless star,
and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked,
the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind.

The Lord has an ocean to give. Don't come with teaspoons.

As the smallest drop of water detached from the ocean contains all the qualities of the ocean, so man, detached in consciousness from the Infinite, contains within him its likeness; and as the drop of water must, by the law of its nature, ultimately find its way back to the ocean and lose itself in its silent depths, so must man, by the unfailing law of his nature, at last return to his source, and lose himself in the great ocean of the Infinite.

And resting in the ocean, dipped into the sea, I find glimmers of One Taste everywhere.