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“Be open minded like the sky. Be accepting like the ocean. Be loving like a flower.”
Debasish Mridha“I slipped my hand into hers. A strange and unfamiliar feeling ran through me. It felt like the ocean, like sunlight, like horses. Like love. I searched my mind and found the name for it. Joy.”
Kimberley Brubaker Bradley“I stare at Hans. Hans is shaped like an industrial-sized refrigerator. His hands are like cinder blocks.He should not be afraid of a little thing like the ocean.”
Cyn Balog, Starstruck“The moon changes each night but she does so in an understandable rhythm. And just as the tides ebb and flow and the moon waxes and wanes, our bodies’ hormones ebb and flow and our energies wax and wane. Our bodies are more like the rivers than like the rocks, more like the oceans than like machines. The more we can respect the cycles and changes and needs of our bodies, the more we can move with the flow of our lives.In other words, swear by the moon. Or, trust your body.”
Golda Poretsky“Thoughts appear and disappear, just like waves on the ocean. Be like the ocean of love, releasing every thought to the shore as soon as they appear.”
Yogi Kanna, Return to Love: A Guide to Inner Peace, Emotional Healing and Spiritual Transformation“Autumn has come and reason has gone. Yesterday, I sold the sun for you and tonight the stars are running away from me. When you first spoke, you slowly annihilated my world. Your mouth was like the sea — in your kisses I sank. Your hands were like the ocean — in your caresses I sank. I ask for no salvation on this moonless night. I only ask for more Autumn.”
Kamand Kojouri“Kissing Amber was like falling into the sea: Her body surrendered to the pull of the tide, buoyed by the saltwater, every breath tasting like the ocean. Reese lost all sense of where the surface was. All there was, was this. Amber’s lips, her tongue, her hands stroking back Reese’s hair, curling around her head and holding her steady. If their first kiss had been a bit awkward, that was gone now.”
Malinda Lo, Adaptation“The flames of the fire leapt up and surrounded her, consuming her, becoming her. Heat filled and flushed her, breaking the bottle and she soared up and up. She came to stand in a sun's center. But that even faded and she rode pillion with Emmerich as he crossed the field on his black battle charger, her hands gripping his sides. The edges of his chain-mail bit into her skin and she could hear his labored breath. She could smell his particular scent: horse and leather, sweat and musk. Men roared like the ocean and rushed like waves to slam against the opposing force meeting them outside the walls.”
Suzanna J. Linton, Clara“My alar is like the ocean in storm. (Devi)”
Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear