We are imprisoned in the realm of life, like a sailor on his tiny boat, on an infinite ocean.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being drowned.
We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.
There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.
Our minds are finite, and yet even in these circumstances of finitude we are surrounded by possibilities that are infinite, and the purpose of life is to grasp as much as we can out of that infinitude.
No man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get himself into a jail; for being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being drowned... a man in a jail has more room, better food, and commonly better company.
We must free ourselves of the hope that the sea will ever rest. We must learn to sail in high winds.
Though the terror of the sea gives to none security, in the secret of the shell. Self preserving we may dwell.
Little islands are all large prisons: one cannot look at the sea without wishing for the wings of a swallow.
Life is a little like a message in a bottle, to be carried by the winds and the tides.
We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came.
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