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“This was once Mazama, I kept reminding myself. This was once a mountain that stood nearly 12,000 feet tall and then had its heart removed. This was once a wasteland of lava and pumice and ash. This was once an empty bowl that took hundreds of years to fill. But hard as I tried, I couldn't see them in my mind's eye. Not the mountain or the wasteland or the empty bowl. They simply were not there anymore. There was only the stillness and the silence of that water: what a mountain and a wasteland and an empty bowl turned into after the healing process.”
― Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

“Every lake belongs to the quietness desired by the swans.”
― Munia Khan

“We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed, and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful, poetic, and absurd. We find, in all these records of the past, philosophies and dreams, and efforts stained with tears, of great and tender souls who tried to pierce the mystery of life and death, to answer the eternal questions of the Whence and Whither, and vainly sought to make, with bits of shattered glass, a mirror that would, in very truth, reflect the face and form of Nature's perfect self.

These myths were born of hopes, and fears, and tears, and smiles, and they were touched and colored by all there is of joy and grief between the rosy dawn of birth, and death's sad night. They clothed even the stars with passion, and gave to gods the faults and frailties of the sons of men. In them, the winds and waves were music, and all the lakes, and streams, and springs,—the mountains, woods and perfumed dells were haunted by a thousand fairy forms. They thrilled the veins of Spring with tremulous desire; made tawny Summer's billowed breast the throne and home of love; filled Autumns arms with sun-kissed grapes, and gathered sheaves; and pictured Winter as a weak old king who felt, like Lear upon his withered face, Cordelia's tears. These myths, though false, are beautiful, and have for many ages and in countless ways, enriched the heart and kindled thought. But if the world were taught that all these things are true and all inspired of God, and that eternal punishment will be the lot of him who dares deny or doubt, the sweetest myth of all the Fable World would lose its beauty, and become a scorned and hateful thing to every brave and thoughtful man.”
― Robert G. Ingersoll, Some Mistakes of Moses

“Not every lake dreams to be an ocean. Blessed are the ones who are happy with whom they are.”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“I have left behind what tethered me to the lake. The sadness. The self-pity. The dark tentacles of the murky sea monster only I could see. And I have come to appreciate the ocean. How the sun and salt together can leave things weightless, easy, and smooth around the edges. Like sea glass and driftwood.”
― Wendy Wunder, The Museum of Intangible Things

“His kiss was like no other! His kiss was enchanted and fairy-tale like. He applied pressure, but just enough to feel his tenderness and warmth. I could feel his heart beating wildly as he pressed his chest against my chest all the while his loving lips brushed up against mine with a care-filled affection. His tongue lightly licked the outer edges of my mouth, and then searched for my tongue. The pursuit allowed a marriage of both tongues to meet - inspiring a mingling tango of hot and heavy French kissing to manifest profusely. We kissed like two hot and horny teenagers, our mouths moving and craving each others lips, in animalistic desires!”
― Keira D. Skye

“Stay away from the underground lake I implore,
The Siren will see you are heard of no more.”
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Phantom Phantasia: Poetry for the Phantom of the Opera Phan

“Take the broken pieces of your life, bake a master cake out of it. Don't stand still like a lake; keep flowing like a stream!”
― Israelmore Ayivor, Dream big!: See your bigger picture!

“She had golden blazing sun kissed hair, which hung down in loose, lazy spirals, a heart shaped pouted mouth, which was pink tinged with violet blushing, wide, spangled blue eyes that glimmered sparks to flicker and ember in the vivid intelligence of the moon’s love, and a yielding body, that seem to tangle in loose rhythm as I walked near to her.”
― Keira D. Skye, Dead Lullabyes in the Lake

“The lake's deep...and dark...and dangerous.”
― Mary Downing Hahn, Deep and Dark and Dangerous

“When you sit tranquilly, you set a great example to the people who rush around in panic and thus you show the crazy waves the beauty of being a calm lake!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Black met black on the distant horizon, the stars alone distinguishing sky from lake. On the sand below, Silver Beach glittered at the water's edge while on the north side of the river the lighthouse's beacon signaled safe harbor.”
― Erin Farwell, Shadowlands

“She dreamed of driving off bridges: into a lake beneath some twisting highway of her youth, into the reservoir on the country road to home, into the San Francisco Bay.”
― Shannon Celebi, Driving Off Bridges

“Looking out over the lake, I felt enveloped in the most peaceful, loving utopia.”
― Laurie Kahn, Harriet Tubman

“Judge not a fellow man by the number of noses he has on his face, but by the number of faces he has on his nose.”
― Chief Long Spear Who Hunts Beavers

“The water. The lake. It flows through our veins, and there's nothing we can do about itâ€� It's like venom.”
― Karen Katchur, The Secrets of Lake Road

“Be calm like a calm lake, then you will look beautiful like a beautiful calm lake!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Vomit began to spill out of me like pea soup, splattering the road with champagne and caviar, long island iced teas, of bacon appetizers and croissants, and a perfectly grilled filet mignonette. It had gone down easy, among the kiss ups of the lawyer world, but spewed out nastily and hard, in the company of a cheater.”
― Keira D. Skye, Dead Lullabyes in the Lake

“Reflection is a good reminder of the truth! You may turn your eyes away from the truths, but the reflections will remind them to you! And anything which describes a truth well is a reflection of that truth! Turn your eyes away from the Moon, then the lake will remind the Moon to you, the shadows of the wolves howling against the Moon will remind the truth to you, even in the eyes of a frog, you shall see the Moon! Thus, if you turn your face away from the truth, it will never work! Because the reminders of truth are everywhere and they are as strong as the truth itself!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“It was one of those places where mist lingers well into the day and the dawn chorus starts early.”
― Fennel Hudson, Wild Carp: Fennel's Journal No. 4

“Find a calm lake and wait for the twilight in silence! There, existence will visit you with all its magnificence! The existence of the Existence can best be felt in the presence of dimness and in the absence of crowds and noises!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“I was moved beyond words. The train ride over the mountains from lake Titticaca to Cusco reminded me of Africa where I grew up; and 4 days walking on the Inca Trail, then more in the jungle, just magnificent - time, space, and splendour. Our planet is superb!”
― Jay Woodman

“She felt a strong pull toward the water and it was more than curiosityâ€�”
― Karen Katchur, The Secrets of Lake Road

“Some people look like frozen lakes; break the ice, there you will see a lively world!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Het mag eigenaardig heten, dat, volgens de overleveringen der oudste kolonies, dit stuk grond vroeger er bijna precies zo uitzag als het stadspark thans. Veertig of vijftig of misschien wel vijfenzeventig jaar geleden was die plek namelijk een open bosterrein met een werkelijk natuurmeer in het midden. Later werd het meer drooggelegd omdat men er koren wilde gaan verbouwen en de vissen, die er leefde - voornamelijk edele soorten als baarzen en snoekbaarzen - stierven in de door de zon verkorste modder. De plaats waar het meer geweest was bleef evenwel drassig en er vormde zich eigener beweging een poel, die met de jaren groter werd en dus eigenlijk niets anders was dan een poging van het meer om zich staande te houden. En het is dus wel nogal zonderling, dat er gebouwen gesloopt zijn moeten worden en er veel geld is moeten worden besteed alleen om het kleine bosterrein met het meer tot zijn vroegere bekoorlijkheid te reconstrueren. Zodat men geneigd zou zijn zich verwonderd af te vragen waarom men van het begin af aan de dingen maar liever niet gelaten heeft zoals ze nu eenmaal waren.”
― Edison Marshall

“-Hay tres preguntas que toda mujer debe ser capaz de responder afirmativamente antes de comprometerse con un hombre. Si tu respuesta es no a alguna de las tres preguntas, corre como el infierno.
-Es sólo una cita -me río-. Dudo que vayamos a hacer algún compromiso.
-Sé que no lo harás, Lake. Hablo en serio. Si no puedes responder sí a estas tres preguntas, ni siquiera pierdas el tiempo una relación.
Cuando abro mi boca, siento como que estoy reforzando el hecho de que soy su niña. No la interrumpo de nuevo.
-¿Él te trata con respeto en todo momento? Esa es la primera pregunta. La segunda pregunta es, si es exactamente la misma persona dentro de veinte años que es hoy, ¿todavía querrías casarte con él? Y por último, ¿hace que quieras ser una mejor persona? Si encuentras a alguien que te haga responder afirmativamente a las tres, entonces has encontrado a un buen hombre.”
― Colleen Hoover, Slammed

“A part of northern Italy called Val Camonica contains about 350,000 petroglyphs that were created nearly 10,000 years ago. Brescia is a famous town at 75 km from there, it is very popular for Beretta arms industry, the oldest in the world, the Garda
Lake and also because Carl William Brown was born there.”
― Carl William Brown, L'Italia in breve.

“No one touched the bottom of the lake and lived. If you were lucky, you'd surface wide-eyed and frantic, babbling at the darkness, the thickness of what lay below. If you were unlucky, underwater recovery dragged the lake for your body.”
― Karen Katchur, The Secrets of Lake Road

“just find your way, like a river settling into its bed, and the sigh of the wind over a lake, light but restful... content with the joy in the arc of an arm throwing a ball for a dog to fetch”
― Jay Woodman