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“The grotto itself comprises its own slick universe, and inside this universe spin countless galaxies: here, in the upturned half of a single mussel shell, lives a barnacle and a tiny spindle shell occupied by a still smaller hermit crab. And on the shell of the crab? A yet smaller barnacle. And on that barnacle?”
― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

“My brow still burns from the kiss of the queen; I have dreamed in the grotto where the siren swims . . .”
― Gérard de Nerval, Selected Writings

“Feel this,â€� says Harold Bazin, and crouches and brings her hand to a curved wall which is completely studded with snails. Hundreds of them. Thousands.
“So many,� she whispers.
“I don’t know why. Maybe because they’re safe from gulls? Here, feel this, I’ll turn it over.â€� Hundreds of tiny, squirming hydraulic feet beneath a horny, ridged top: a sea star. “Blue mussels here. And here’s a dead stone crab, can you feel his claw?”
― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

“Perhaps the loss of your voice has more to do with your heart than your throat. The grotto's water can only fix wounds of the flesh that are unhealed, not wounds of the heart. Trust me. I have tried to heal my heart there many times.”
― Sarah C. Patten, The Measure of Gold