Poetry, as I opine, is a toddling of a lad, a walking of a man, and a wandering of a shark in the ocean of an unusual arrangement of one's thought on the back of his mind, tongue, and before then sometimes, his laid words like a sign of passion on a dimpled night.
Let my style capture all the sounds of my time. This should make it an annoyance to my contemporaries. But later generations should hold it to their ears like a seashell in which there is the music of an ocean of mud.
(Karl Kraus (1874-1936), Austrian writer. Trans. by Harry Zohn, originally published in Beim Wort genommen (1955). Half-Truths and One-and-a-Half Truths, University of Chicago Press (1990).)
... for the modern soul, for which it is mere child's play to bridge oceans and continents, there is nothing so impossible as to find the contact with the souls dwelling just around the corner.
(Robert Musil (1880-1942), Austrian author. repr. Perigee (1980). The Man Without Qualities, book I, part 2, ch. 55, trans. and with a foreword by Eithne Wilkins and Ernst Kaiser, Coward-McCann (1953).)
... the ocean could not be swept back with a broom. The truth was out. It illuminated the world. Motherhood no longer cringed before the relentless laws of fecundity.
(Margaret Sanger (1879-1966), U.S. birth control advocate. My Fight for Birth Control, ch. 21 (1931).
On her success, in 1922, in obtaining New York State incorporation for the American Birth Control League. Sanger was President of the League.)
What doubts, what hypotheses, what labyrinths of amusement, what fields of disputation, what an ocean of false learning, may be avoided by that single notion of immaterialism!
(George Berkeley (1685-1753), Irish bishop, philosopher. Hylas, in "Three Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous," dial. 3, p. 262, The Works of George Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, eds. A. Luce and T. Jessop, London, Thomas Nelson and Sons Ltd. (1948-1957).)