I was sixteen, still my mother’s prisoner, the night I became the whale. — Kendall Kulper, Salt & Storm
I was sixteen, still my mother’s prisoner, the night I became the whale. — Kendall Kulper, Salt & Storm
I was sixteen, still my mother’s prisoner, the night I became the whale. — Kendall Kulper, Salt & Storm
I was sixteen, still my mother’s prisoner, the night I became the whale. — Kendall Kulper, Salt & Storm
I was sixteen, still my mother’s prisoner, the night I became the whale. — Kendall Kulper, Salt & Storm
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I was sixteen, still my mother’s prisoner, the night I became the whale.

— Kendall Kulper, Salt & Storm
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More “Ocean” Quotes

Do you ever think about the ocean?" Nick asked me."What about it?" I said."Like what could live down there? Like how the — Blake Nelson, They Came From Below
An ocean which thinks there is nothing to learn from a lake is not a wise ocean! — Mehmet Murat ildan
He feels himself buried in those two infinities, the ocean and the sky, at one and the same time: the one is a tomb; the — Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
We all have an edge. We all are floating our psyche on top with a great ocean underneath. — Brad Dourif
When the ship approached the equator, I stopped going out on deck in the daytime. The sun burned like a flame. The days — Isaac Bashevis Singer, American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from the 1940's Until Now
The children had had an argument once about whether there was more grass in the world or more sand, and Roger said that — Daphne du Maurier, Echoes from the Macabre: Selected Stories
My room was in one of those turrets and at night I could hear the sea and the faint rustle of eelgrass in the soft wind. — Katherine Hall Page
Shearwater sighed, like a whale in the night. — Aldous Huxley, Antic Hay
The fireworks went on for nearly half an hour, great pulsing strobes, fiery dandelions and starbursts of light brighteni — Sol Luckman, Snooze: A Story of Awakening
The smell of the sea, of kelp and fish and bitter moving water, rose stronger in my nostrils. It flooded my consciousnes — Ross Macdonald, The Drowning Pool
And finally the two of them plunged into the dark sea, a sea like a pack of wolves, and they dove around the boat trying — Roberto Bolaño, 2666
Increasingly, we will be faced with a choice: whether to keep the oceans for wild fish or farmed fish. Farming domestica — Charles Clover, The End of the Line: How Overfishing Is Changing the World and What We Eat