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Island Quotes

Browse 112 quotes about Island.

Island Quotes

“A letter from a French cleric to Nicholas of St. Albans, written c. 1178, rehearsed what was already a familiar perception: Your island is surrounded by water, and not unnaturally its inhabitants are affected by the nature of the element in which they live. Unsubstantial fantasies slide easily into their minds. They think their dreams to be visions, and their visions to be divine. We cannot blame them, for such is the nature of their land. I have often noticed that the English are greater dreams than the French.”

WaterImaginationEnglandIsland
Book:Albion: The Origins of the English Imagination
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“In a hidden paradise where bountiful leaves danced with the emerald waves, a young woman epitomized the very spirit of femininity, radiating a serenity that mirrored the enchanting landscape surrounding her. This secluded island, a precious jewel far removed from the turmoil of the outside world, a realm where nature thrived in its most exquisite form. Each day, she wandered through the vibrant, verdant jungle, her heart alive with the symphony of chirping birds and the gentle rustle of leaves stirred by the soft caress of the breeze. The air was rich with the heady fragrance of blooming blossoms, and golden sunlight streamed through the lush canopy, casting a delicate mosaic of light and shadow upon the jungle floor. In this ethereal haven, she felt an intimate connection to the Earth, as if the very essence of nature cradled her in a loving embrace. The ocean, a breathtaking canvas of swirling blues and greens, held its own kind of magic. Majestic whales glided gracefully beneath the surface, their haunting songs weaving tales of the ocean's deepest secrets. Wise turtles ambled across the sunkissed sands, while playful dolphins frolicked in the waves, their joyous leaps celebrating the boundless freedom of life in harmony with nature. As the sun descended beyond the horizon, splashing the sky with vibrant shades of blazing red, gleaming gold, delicate pink and lavender, she often found herself standing at the water's edge, captivated by the breathtaking beauty that surrounded her. The gentle lullaby of the ocean, entwined with the whispers of the jungle, created a symphony of serenity that enveloped her, allowing her thoughts to drift like clouds in the vast sky above. In this tranquil paradise, time seemed to stand still, each moment stretching into eternity like a cherished memory. The island's mysteries slowly unfolded, revealing hidden waterfalls that sparkled like diamonds, secret groves filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and plumeria, and breathtaking vistas that stole her breath away. It was a realm of endless wonder, where every corner held a new discovery, each more enchanting than the last. Here, in the heart of the Pacific she uncovered her true self ~ a reflectiocn of the beauty that surrounded her. In this harmonious environment, she felt eternally at peace, wrapped in the loving arms of nature and the island's enchanting magic. Each day became a celebration of romance and life, a poignant reminder that the greatest treasures lie not in material possessions but in the simple joys of existence, the deep connections forged with the world around her, and the profound serenity of being truly alive, where love blooms in every heartbeat and every breath...”

LoveSpiritualNatureBeautyOceanRomanticParadiseIslandKaia EmeraldSouch Pacific
Author:Kaia Emerald
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“Sanibel Island is an alluring paradox. A primordial landscape, buzzing with tourists. A tropical hideaway where storybook sunsets heal souls, and violent hurricanes destroy property. A cherished corner of Old Florida, in the midst of a modernizing metamorphosis. Where unfettered wildness thrives, even as ecological challenges mount. A dream place where I can explore the boundaries between coastal textures, the rhythm of nature, and the stuff of humankind; and create art that is honest and authentic.”

ArtBeachFloridaHurricaneIslandArtist QuotesSunset QuotesSunsetsSanibel
Author:Eric J. Taubert
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“Man is not an isolated island, but we live with the false notion of being an island. We are part of the whole. We are not apart from the whole. We belong to the continent, and the continent is infinite. The ego is an island,. but your being is not an island. To follow the dictates of the ego is to make a mess of your life, because it takes you away from the unity of existence. It is trying to create a separate entity, it is trying to be separate from the unity of existence. This is doomed to fail from the beginning, because it is not in accord with the law of existence. How can the three be separate from the earth? How can the leaf be separate from the tree? The moment the tree is separate from the earth it is dead. Life is being with the tree. Life is part of the tree. The larger your ego is, the more it suffocates our being, our life source. The moment you drop the ego, you are free. You are free from all imprisonments. Then the whole universe belongs to you. Then all the stars, rivers and mountains are part of you. To be in this unity is to be in joy.”

LoveLifeJoyExistenceMeditationEgoEternalInfiniteIsland
Book:The Way of the Heart
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“You don’t sound happy, mo ghrád,” he had told her over her landlady’s telephone, about a year after she’d left. She wasn’t, not even then, though there was still the buoyant hope that one day it would slip into place like a gear in a clock. But she hadn’t gone in search of happiness. Happiness was at home, on the island, in the midnight suns of summer, the winter skies dancing with lights...”

HomeHomesicknessIslandThe Wild Hunt
Book:The Wild Hunt
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“Living with Justin in his childhood home, my love and I had formed an island—a nation-state of two, sleepy and safe. We had only planned to stay with his family for a few weeks after the wedding—three months had passed. Days in our private culture were peaceful, smooth as a frozen lake, our souls stilled. This life with my in-laws was a comfortable hibernation, easy.”

HomeChildhoodComfortableSafetyIsolationInertiaSleepySeparatenessIslandHibernation
Book:Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir
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“Maelstrom Rock by Stewart Stafford O, obsidian jagged island, This playground of the gods, Distant white novice waves, In warhorse slam into rock. Be this witchcraft or wit's raft? Conducting the vast elements, With lava-hot passion mustered, Spinning whirlpool shipwreck tales. A walker between the winds comes, Both Nature and shaman within it, Of coral and shell and weed growth, Compassion at flaying whip's end. Bid goodbye to the demi-paradise! On the gloomy prow, watch it flee, An aria's dreams of magic ebbing, Freed thralls clasp earthly chains. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”

PoetryFantasyMagicSeaAdventureMythologyWeatherIslandObsidianThe Tempest
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“Meradinis! Turtle Island! It was a little corner of chaos! This was the scene the speeding black ship had left behind three days ago, fleeing in humiliating shame, those three days a constant running battle. For three days the accursed Imperial ship Indomitable had followed, firing on them at every opportunity. Death or imprisonment now awaited those who called themselves Corsairs – and though this death was now more certain rather than just a possibility, Sona Kilroy, or “The Hammer” as he was called by his men, was not prepared to give up his freedom so easily. Piracy was his life and he’d known no other. He was tough and cruel, a despicable man, a case in point when academics quoted the barbarism by which the Corsairs had made themselves known and feared across the star systems of the peaceful Terran Empire.”

MenMadeOpportunityBlackPossibilityBattleToughShameConstantChaosManGiveStarNowBarbarismTheMoreToALittleFleeingCruelInIslandShipOtherEmpireEveryThisHisCaseCalledWasHadThemselvesFollowedEasilyAgoAccursedCorsairsMeradinisAwaitedHe WasSonaTerran
Book:Dead Beckoning
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“Knight, of course, felt that anyone's willing assistance tainted the whole thing. Either you are hidden or you're not, no middle ground. He wished to be unconditionally alone, exiled to an island of his own creation, an uncontacted tribe of one.”

CreationAloneAssistanceExileOneHiddenTaintedIslandMiddle GroundTribeExiledUnconditionallyUncontacted
Book:The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit
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“The little island seemed to float on the dark lake-waters. Trees grew on it, and a little hill rose in the middle of it. It was a mysterious island, lonely and beautiful. All the children stood and gazed at it, loving it and longing to go to it. It looked so secret - almost magic. “Well,” said Jack at last. “What do you think? Shall we run away, and live on the secret island?” “Yes!” whispered all the children. “Let’s!”

ChildrenBeautifulSecretLonelyMysteriousRunning AwayIsland
Book:The Secret Island
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“If you are looking for a career that may induce a myriad of health conditions into you, I can recommend working at the 13,796 feet very high altitude summit of Mauna Kea, Hawaii, USA.”

MayWorkFeetConditionsHealthMountainDiseaseSickUsaSicknessAltitudeYouMaunaKeaCareerHawaiiSummitHighWorkingMountaineeringMountain ClimbingSearchingBigCareer AdviceIslandCareer PathLookingVeryPeakMountaintopRecommendationMyriadRecommendInduceMountaineer13796
Author:Steven Magee
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“Poetry isn’t an island, it is the bridge. Poetry isn’t a ship, it is the lifeboat. Poetry isn’t swimming. Poetry is water.”

WritingArtPoetryArtistLiteratureWaterFictionCreativityWrittenBooksPoetExpressionPoemLettersHarmonyUnityWordsBoatPoetry QuotesAuthorWriterConnectionSwimSwimmingRhymeCreative WritingWriteVesselWriting QuotesKamandKojouriKamand KojouriSaveSpoken WordSwimmerBridgeYachtIslandShipVerseConnectNovelistWater QuotesBridge QuotesWater Is LifeLimerickWaterfallPoetessWhat Is PoetryCanoeLifeboatStanzaKayakPoetry Poem
Author:Kamand Kojouri
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“The land of Maren, my island, calls to me in my fretful sleep. Like dancing ribbons of light, it winds its memories around my starved, yearning torso, tearing at my aching heart. “I am twirling now, unravelling a ribbon memory of light, warm sand and cresting waves around me. “To feel at breath with my unique, native land and to retrace my footprints across its terrains would be ... heavenly.”

WarIdentityMemoryIslandOriginNative LandHeart AcheSpiritual ConnectionAttunementRetracing Footprints
Book:All the Hope We Carry
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“Yeah. It's a metaphor. Jess and I are partners.' I point across the bay at nearby San Francisco. 'Look at that city,' I say. 'That's society. It's Out There. I this its own illusions, its own abilities, its own tasks. We used to be a part of it. Oh, we are, in some way, but now we are something else. We are a distinct culture, a separate island. To get to Us, you have to swim across a bay in cold ocean waters. By the time you get here, you would have come to respect the ocean and the waters and the waves—and the beaches of this island would remind you of how great it is to be on land, to be in the presence of a great, married couple.' Jack laughs. 'Now you really are a megalomaniac. A true idealist.' 'I don't know, Jack,' I say. 'I think marriage is sacred.' 'I can tell.' He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. He blows smoke around and then looks at me. 'You want one?' he asks. 'This one's not a metaphor.”

LoveMarriageSacredMetaphorIslandThe HackMikheyev
Book:The Hack
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“Houses built on bridges are scandals. A bridge wants to not be. If it could choose its shape, a bridge would be no shape, an unspace to link One-place-town to Another-place-town over a river or a road or a tangle of railway tracks or a quarry, or to attach an island to another island or to the continent from which it strains. The dream of a bridge is of a woman standing at one side of a gorge and stepping out as if her job is to die, but when her foot falls it meets the ground right on the other side. A bridge is just better than no bridge but its horizon is gaplessness, and the fact of itself should still shame it. But someone had built on this bridge, drawn attention to its matter and failure. An arrogance that thrilled me.”

DreamFailureBridgesArroganceRiverRoadBridgeIslandShapeQuarryContinentBridgingA Bridge DreamingBridge DreamsGaplessnessHouses On BridgesRailway TracksUnspace
Book:This Census-Taker
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“He never should have left the island. He’d been there with Diana and Penny. He could have tossed Penny off a cliff and been fine on the island. Decent food, a beautiful mansion, electricity, and a soft bed with Diana in it. What had he been thinking, leaving the island? He missed Diana busting him. He missed her snarky voice. He missed her eye rolls and that skeptical look she had where she’d half close her eyes and look at him like he was too dumb to merit her full attention. He’d have killed, or at least injured, anyone else who treated him like that. But she wasn’t anyone else. He missed her hair. Her neck. Her breasts. She understood him. She loved him, in her own way. And if he had listened to her, he’d still be on the island. Somehow he would have found some fuel to keep the lights on there. Probably. And the food would have run out and then they’d have starved, but hey, this was the FAYZ, where all you could really hope to do was delay the pain.”

LoveShould HaveLeaveIslandCaine SorenStayedDiana Ladris
Book:Light
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