Where great whales come sailing by, Sail and sail, with unshut eye, Round the world for ever and aye.
Sail on ship of state, sail on, I union, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, with all its hopes of future years, is hanging on thy fate!
Sail on silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
Oh, if you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind.
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.
I'd just love to ride off into the sunset with my love. I've only seen the sunset so far. Maybe I can earn my own Ferrari so I can ride off in the sunset without anyone by my side.
Come, my friends Tis not too late to seek a newer world Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die
I was never part of the sailing circle, but I enjoy when I'm invited to sail.
One century's saint is the next century's heretic ... and one century's heretic is the next century's saint. It is as well to think long and calmly before affixing either name to any man.
Walking aft a few feet we stand at the steering gear of the ship. There is no cozy; wheel-house on the bridge for the quartermaster of a sailing ship! He must stand at the very stern, with an unobstructed view of the sails. When sailing "by the wind" his eye is glued to the weather-side of the uppermost sail; he keeps it drawing a trace of wind, but never lets it fill.
The 20th Century was the century of Aviation and the century of Globalization. The next century will be the century of Space.
A sailing ship is no democracy; you don't caucus a crew as to where you'll go anymore than you inquire when they'd like to shorten sail.
My sailing system set sail, make it fast, no thoughts of energy or velocity, loll back, let boat drift.
And if that is the Foremast, what do you think that sail might be called, Mr. Wheeler?" "The Foresail?" "Very good, Mr. Wheeler, and the next one up would be called..." ..."The Next Sail, Sir?" "Alas, no, Mr. Wheeler.
My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.
For me, my craft is sailing on,Through mists to-day, clear seas anon.Whate'er the final harbor be'T is good to sail upon the sea!