Wreckage At Sea Quotes & Sayings

It's as if I'm afloat in a sea of change. Each piece of wreckage to which I cling has limited buoyancy and soon sinks, forcing me to hold tightly to another and then another. — Ken Davis

Welcome to our camp!" Blackstar called, beckoning them with his tail. "Rest here and take your pick of the fresh-kill pile."
"Who are you and what have you done with Blackstar?" Lionblaze muttered. — Erin Hunter

It preoccupies me until it's time to leave. It seems such the right expression of grief. I am sad, so in whatever small way I can, I will tear myself apart. They've taken what's on the inside and made it visible. If I thought it wouldn't be inappropriate I'd do it myself. — Jael McHenry

The typists might have been so many blackbeetles. — Agatha Christie

I find funny that altho no one is perfect, we constantly compare ourselves to others. Judging others by their appearance and wealth, assuming that they're happier than us. History shows that human's will never be fully satisfied. Even those who seem perfect eventually break down in tears, because everyone has their own struggle, regret, and war within to face each day. So why waist your time comparing yourself to those around you? — Abraham Ruiz

I'm going to teach you to ride Princess."
"Princess?"
"My motorcycle."
I laugh. "You named your motorcycle Princess?"
"What can I say?" he teases. "I call all my favorite things princess. — Tera Lynn Childs

His reading suggested a man swimming in the sea among the wreckage of his ship, and trying to save his life by greedily clutching first at one spar and then at another. — Anton Chekhov

Sometimes I think it is my fate to live in the wreckage and confusion of crumbling houses. — Abdulrazak Gurnah

Hak Nam rose before her as she waded nearer, but with a dream's logic it grew no closer. Backwashing sea, sucking at her ankles. The Walled City is growing. Being grown. From the fabric of the beach, wrack and wreckage of the world before things changed. Unthinkable tonnage, dumped here by barge and bulk-lifter in the course of the great reconstruction. The minuscule bugs of Rodel-van Erp seethe there, lifting the iron-caged balconies that are sleeping rooms, countless unplanned windows throwing blank silver rectangles back against the fog. A thing of random human accretion, monstrous and superb, it is being reconstituted here, retranslated from its later incarnation as a realm of consensual fantasy. The — William Gibson

I mean, what kind of literature do you think ants would make if they could read? Not F. Scott Fuckin' Fitzgerald, not Joyce or D-D - D-Dostoyevsky, not even friggin' Steinbeck. Wouldn't make any sense to 'em. You ever read Nabokov's Lolita? Best book of the twentieth century, but old-fashioned my friend, old fuckin' fashioned. Same old story over and over again, one more guy mesmerized by his own dick, wandering around the wreckage of his life. Who the fuck cares about that? Give me the Knights of the Round Table! Give me Merlin! Or better, the "wine dark sea"! Much more interesting. — Eric Bogosian