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“I lay full length on the sand, took up a handful and let it run through my fingers in soft yellow streams. I told myself that it ran out like time. It was an idle thought, and it was pleasant to have idle thoughts, for it was summer.”
― Françoise Sagan, Bonjour tristesse

“I bless these gifts from the sea,
From sand to shell let it be.”
― Wendy Joubert, Sea Witch

“For a second, I thought about the lifetime of that sand. I envisioned it from its rocky beginnings as a boulder somewhere far away and long ago, to its breakdown in cobbles, to its further breakdown into pebbles, then to its further breakdown into coarse sand, then to its further break”
― Sean Norris, Heaven and Hurricanes

“To be a poet is to be struck with wonder upon wonder as the waves leave the shores for everything that bids adieu leaves something behind, as a shell on the sands.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Ever sift sand through a screen?" she asked.
The tangential slash of her question shocked his mind into a higher awareness: Sand through a screen. He nodded.
"We Bene Gesserit sift people to find the humans.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

“Too often our ‘line in the sandâ€� falls prey to the wind in our desert.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“That was my baby brother. It doesn't matter how he went out of that window, I should have caught him.”
― Tana French, Faithful Place

“They say that soulmates are like dreams: you own them without truly having them. I used to doubt this notion until you departed from my life's story. It then became clear that I had been pursuing something as elusive as a mirage, a kite whose string was held by someone else”
― Shahid Hussain Raja

“No man who rides the sand can ride the tide”
― Neil Mach, The Patternmaker and the Tide

“To keep an ostrich from putting its head in the sand, it would make sense to get rid of the sand. Yet in our culture today, so many of us seem to be in the import business.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“What the Sand gets, the Sand keeps forever.
Wilkie Collins, The Moonstone”
― Elly Griffiths, The Crossing Places

“When I looked out at the beach, I imagined each grain of sand like a measure of time that I'd been allotted. I could either let them run through my hands or I could stop and pay attention.”
― C.J. Cooke, The Lighthouse Witches

“We lived hand in hand with the sand, the wind and the sun. When the wind blew strong, the sand from the sea whirled up and violently battered the Mud Whale. The grains would get inside the keep and stick to people's skin. When the sun shone, the mud walls, the drifts of sand, and the grains on people's skin all sparkled.”
― Abi Umeda, Children of the Whales, Vol. 1

“All those happy memories have lost their colour, all at once. I clutch for them, but they are like sand, gritty and abrasive. Sand under the eyelids. Sand in the mind.”
― Adrian Tchaikovsky, Elder Race

“This old world will soon break into pieces! Don’t you hear the tremblings of it?”
― J.C. Ryle, Holiness

“That peculiar light just before sunset, before gloaming: it is then that Essa sees for the first time the famous dunes at Avanue, which roll like fat people in their sleep, and shift restlessly forever.

“They cast long shadows, these sleeping giants, and Essa shivers. She has walked too far—after the trip north she was so grateful to be out of hospital—her hands and feet are cold, and she is dizzy with exhaustion. She sits down on the ragged grass at the edge of the bluff which overlooks the dunes, and tries not to hate them.

“Her mother’s words, remembered in a dream, sound like water flowing in her thoughts. There is no water here. The grasses under her are dry and stiff, and they grow in sand so fine it grits through her clothing against the skin of her ass. The sea is too far away to see or smell. But at least she is alone.

“Though she is shivering, it is still a hot day, and the sun has warmed the sand. The ground radiates heat into her body. She lies down flat on her belly, her head to one side so that she can still see the dunes, and puts her hands beneath her; gradually they warm.

“Gradually her body comes back into balance and she starts to see an eerie beauty before her. The sun is fully down when she sits up, brushes the sand away as well as she can, and hugs her knees to her chest. She puts her chin on her knees and watches darkness descend over the low rolling landscape.

“This is unlike any cliff on which she has rested yet. It is low and gives no perspective. The dunes come up almost to her feet. Yet the demarcation is quite abrupt: there is no grass growing anywhere after this brief crumbling drop-off, and she can see as the land-breeze begins to quicken that ahead of her the sand is moving. In fact, she realizes, she can hear it, a low sweeping sound which has mounted from inaudibility until it inexorably backs every other sound: sounds of grasses moving, insects scraping, birds calling from the invisible sea far beyond her viewpoint are all subsumed in one great sand-song.

“It is a sound so relentlessly sad that Essa can hardly bear to listen, but so persistent that she cannot ignore it now that she has become aware of its susurration. She pulls her sweater—the one her mother made by her knitting—around her and waits.

“When it is fully dark and the wind has died again, she rises and begins the long walk back to town in the dim light of stars and crescent moon.”
― Candas Jane Dorsey, Black Wine

“I withdraw once again in the contemplation of the desert and its sumptuous architecture.
How is it possible to have such perfect curves with such pure lines, looking as if drawn for infinity but made of... sand, sculpted by the wind? The little wind furrows are almost the perfect mirror image of those left by the pulses of the sea in the sand of the estuaries and on the beaches.”
― Francoise Hivernel, 50 Camels and She's Yours

“Her feet dug into the sand, and the sand was warm and smooth. The wind brought it here, and the wind would take it away from here, and that was fine because the sand did not remember. The sand didn't know where it had been yesterday and didn't know where it would be tomorrow. If that weren't so, if the sand remembered all the places it had been, it would become so heavy that no wind would be able to carry it off to anywhere.”
― Ayelet Gundar-Goshen, Waking Lions

“Promises written in sand are all too often washed away by ill intentions.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“Seashore memories we made in the wilderness of waves. We drank in the smell of love... that broke loose on the sands...”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“The woman glanced up at the stars before lowering to her knees in the sand. She bowed her head, letting the desert grains cover her skirts and run through fingers as she murmured in the old, forgotten language--- the one Agrabah would always respond to. And the ground began to shake.
Sand whipped through the air, swirling around the woman, he used her cloak as a shield against the onslaught. The grains spun before her, funneling into a tornado, until every last piece came together to form an unmistakable shape: tigers head, with sharp sandstone for jaws and teeth and a gaping mouth lit by fire.
The woman stepped forward and the tiger opened its mouth wider, revealing a glowing staircase within that beckoned her closer. Welcome back, old friend.”
― Alexandra Monir, Realm of Wonders

“For they shall suck of the abundance of the seas and the treasure hid in the sand.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

“The prophetic sparkle of autumn. . . .invested the water and air of Balboa next morning. The inland garden softness of the night before was gone. The bay was still blue, and the wind-blown watery ridges looked sharp enough to draw blood. The sand glittered with minute glassy igloos.”
― Jessamyn West, A Matter of Time

“To reason is to dull this enchantment..See, how the breeze flirts with the murmur of leaves and the eye beholds the virgin beauty of morn. The waves flirt with the shores for the sands call the waves to come home and there begins the gentle teasings of life....”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“In the core of a stone is a fruit, tender and ripe. Even a desert can grow flowers..the warm stir and all that was old turns to gold as you drink the wine of life, the sweet sap held within the stone..”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“The desert wind had stirred up evil odors from the fringe plantings which anchored the dunes at the cliff base. Fremen superstition gripped her: evil odors, evil times. She faced into the wind, saw a worm appear outside the plantings. It arose like the prow of a demon ship out of the dunes, threshed sand, smelled the water deadly to its kind, and fled beneath a long, burrowing mound.
She hated the water then, inspired by the worm's fear. Water, once the spirit-soul of Arrakis, had become a poison. Water brought pestilence. Only the desert was clean.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune Messiah

“Change versus Transformation--
Change comes when something new just begins...but Transformation comes after an upheaval that tragically alters your life when something or someone you hold close is taken away from you..and you either turn bitter or are called to be transformed in your deep... Transformation comes when uprooted inside..you either drown in the sea or swim hard to make it to the shores...The drive to reach the shores makes you transform in your depths....
However, transformation is accompanied by change but change is not always accompanied by transformation....Transformation comes out of a moral impulse but change is unrelated to anything moral...”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“The sea! The sea! How many years had it been since I’d stepped onto the shoreline, dipped my toes into the water, sunken head-first into the waves? I had dreamt of it often. This exact moment. Walking here, with the soft sensation of sand underfoot and the bright sun overhead, the chirping of seagulls and that endless expanse of coastline. Lost from the world. From time. From all of it.”
― Joshua Krook , Black Friday 2050: The powerful psychological thriller set in a terrifying high-tech future

“Every grain of sand is a fragment of time, telling tales of the world's ancient history.”
― Aloo Denish Obiero

“The balloon floated just above a ridge that ran along one side of the valley. They could see no one, no ani- mals or sign of any life, but there were trails in the hard sand bed that suggested people occasionally passed this way. Such trails could be misleading, for in the desert they could exist for an eternity, and one could never tell how old they might be.”
― David Ball, Empires of Sand by David Ball