There were many seas. The sea roared like a tiger. The sea whispered in your ear like a friend telling you secrets. The sea clinked like small change in a pocket. The sea thundered like avalanches. The sea hissed like sandpaper working on wood. The sea sounded like someone vomiting. The sea was dead silent.
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Chapter 78, p. 239Yann Martel
I jumped up on the benches, roared out, "Damn you, you rascals!", hissed and was in the greatest rage. [...] I hated the English; I wished from my soul that the Union was broke and that we might give them another battle of Bannockburn.
James Boswell
Life is change, to cease to change is to cease to live; yet if you may shed a tear beside the death-bed of an old friend, let not your heart be silent on the dissolving of a faith.
James Anthony Froude
I cannot imagine any boy of spirit who would not be delighted to play a drunkard — even to vomiting — in front of his Sunday school. Indeed, the vomiting might be the chief attraction of the role.
Robertson Davies
Strangewood was never silent. It was never supposed to be. There was such life and color in the wood and in the creatures who lived there that silence would be tantamount to death. It was very silent in Strangewood. - Page 160
Christopher Golden
"Who has sent this new serpent into our ruinous garden, already too fouled, too crowded to qualify as any locus of innocence — unless innocence be our age's neutral, our silent passing into the machineries of indifference — something that Kekulé's Serpent had come to — not to destroy, but to define to us the loss of... we had been given certain molecules, certain combinations and not others... we used what we found in Nature, unquestioning, shamefully perhaps — but the Serpent whispered, 'They can be changed, and new molecules assembled from the debris of the given.... ' Can anyone tell me what else he whispered to us? Come — who knows?"
Thomas Pynchon
Martel, Yann
Marti, Jose
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