“If the wind will not serve, take to the oars. To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle.”

“Every moment of light and dark is a miracle.”

“To me, every hour of the day and night is an unspeakably perfect miracle.”

“I spent uncounted hours sitting at the bow looking at the water and the sky, studying each wave, different from the last, seeing how it caught the light, the air, the wind; watching patterns, the sweep of it all, and letting it take me. The sea.”

“All change is a miracle to contemplate, but it is a miracle which is taking place every instant.”

“My galley, charged with forgetfulness,Thorough sharp seas in winter nights doth pass'Tween rock and rock; and eke mine enemy, alas,That is my lord, steereth with cruelness;And every oar a thought in readiness,As though that death were light in such a case.An endless wind doth tear the sail apaceOf forced sighs and trusty fearfulness.A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,Hath done the weared cords great hinderance;Wreathed with error and eke with ignorance.The stars be hid that led me to this pain.Drowned is reason that should me consort,And I remain despairing of the port.”