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“And the sea trickling out of my eye as if I'd always carried it inside me, like a seashell waiting to be cupped to an ear.”
Cisneros Sandra“It is the simple things that are in the ocean. People think that simple things are on the seashore, like seashells. But seashells are just illusions of the things that once used to live inside of them, that are back in the sea! They are dead things, and dead things are not simple things. Living things are simple things, things like love. People think that love isn't simple, but that's because they are on the seashore; but when you are a mermaid, when you have gills, when you need to be in the ocean; love is simple. It's about being beside someone and staying there. And then sharing your souls. What's natural to a mermaid, isn't natural to a person. But I want everyone to be a mermaid. And if they can't, at least they can know what a mermaid is like. We live with the things that are alive.”
C. JoyBell C.“George Malcolm: half white, half black, with messy tousled hair, rumpled and tugged between kind of curly and extremely curly. Once, a year or so before, he'd been at our house and he'd pulled out a lock of his hair and used it to teach me about eddies and helixes. It's a circular current into a central station, he'd explained, giving me one to hold. I pulled on the spring. Nature is full of the same shapes, he said, taking me to the bathroom sink and spinning on the top and pointing out the way the water swirled down the drain. Taking me to the bookshelf and flipping open a book on weather and showing me a cyclone. Then a spiral galaxy. Pulling me back to the bathroom sink, to my glass jar of collected seashells, and pointing out the same curl in a miniature conch. See? he said, holding the seashell up to his hair. Yes! I clapped. His eyes were warm with teaching pleasure. It's galactic hair, he said, smiling.At school, George was legendary already. He was so natural at physics that one afternoon the eighth-grade science teacher had asked him to do a preview of the basics of relativity, really fast, for the class. George had stood up and done such a fine job, using a paperweight and a yardstick and the standard-issue school clock, that the teacher had pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet. I'd like to be the first person to pay you for your clarity of mind, the teacher had said. George used the cash to order pizza for the class. Double pepperoni, he told me later, when I'd asked.”
Aimee Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake“To look at the paper is to raise a seashell to one's ear and to be overwhelmed by the roar of humanity.”
Alain de Botton, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work“When I lean my ear up against your seashell heart, I can hear an ocean of love roaring inside.”
John Mark Green“Statuettes of drunken sailors, velvet pictures of island maidens, plastic seashell lamps made in Taiwan. What contempt the people who think up souvenirs have for other people.”
Diane Johnson“If there were ever any half-bloods who needed to worry about that, itwas Thalia and me. I wondered if maybe I should've sent Poseidon that seashell pattern tiefor Father's Day after all.--Percy Jackson”
Rick Riordan, The Titan's Curse“The same principles that make a spiral galaxy also create the structure of a seashell and unfurling of a fern. This is why ancient spiritual people used natural symbols to convey universal concepts.”
Belsebuub, Return to Source: How Enlightenment is the Process of Creation in the Universe in Reverse“Could an Olympian parent turn against his half-blood child? Would it sometimes be easier just to let them die? If there were ever any half-bloods who needed to worry about that, it was Thalia and me. I wondered if maybe I should've sent Poseidon that seashell pattern tie for Father's Day after all.”
Rick Riordan, The Titan's Curse“I discovered news of old horrors in old books; read intelligence of old atrocities in old periodicals; always in the back of my mind, every day a bit louder, I heard the seashell drone of some growing, coalescing force; I seemed to smell the bitter ozone aroma of lightings-to-come.”
Stephen King, It