A Quote by Bill Cosby

A sail boat that sails backwards can never see the sun rise. — © Bill Cosby
A sail boat that sails backwards can never see the sun rise.
The goal is not to sail the boat, but rather to help the boat sail herself.
If you want to build a boat, do not instruct the men to saw wood, stitch the sails, prepare the tools and organize the work, but make them long for setting sail and travel to distant lands.
I've always wanted to sail around the world in a handmade boat. And I built a boat. I had a boat built for me, I mean, and my second day out to sea I realized that (a) I'm not a sailor, and (b) I have no knowledge of basic navigation.
I've always wanted to sail around the world in a handmade boat and I built a boat.
I've always wanted to sail around the world in a handmade boat, and I built a boat.
Why do scuba divers fall backwards off a boat? Because if they fell forwards they'd still be in the boat.
Sail on, sail on, o' might Ship of State. To the shores of need, past the reefs of greed, through the squalls of hate. Sail on, sail on, sail on.
The sun rises every day. What is to love? Lock the sun in a box. Force the sun to overcome adversity in order to rise. Then we will cheer! I will often admire beautiful sunrise, but I will never consider the sun a champion for having risen.
Fortunately the boat we rented had a motor in it You will definitely want this feature on your sailboat too, because if you put up the sails, the boat tips way over, and you could spill your beer.
A bogus Congress register can never lead you to Swaraj any more than a paper boat can help you to sail across the Padma.
O you, who in some pretty boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along Turn back to look again upon your own shores; Tempt not the deep, lest unawares, In losing me, you yourselves might be lost. The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears. You other few who have neck uplifted Betimes to the bread of angels upon Which one lives and does not grow sated, Well may you launch your vessel Upon the deep sea.
Oh, my darling, wish you were here! And my dark soul is happy again, because it does not know how to be anything else for very long, and because the pain is a deep dark sea in which I would drown if I did not sail my little craft steadily over the surface, steadily towards a sun which will never rise.
Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill me, if I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me.
I'm desperate to learn how to sail a boat.
In the pale light of daybreak the gravestones looked like so many white sails of boats anchored in a busy harbor. They were sails that would never again be filled with wind, sails that, too long unused and heavily drooping, had been turned into stone just as they were. The boats' anchors had been thrust so deeply into the dark earth that they could never again be raised.
The breeze of grace is always blowing on you. You have to open the sails and your boat will move forward.
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