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“Vicinity to the sea is desirable, because it is easier to do nothing by the sea than anywhere else, and because bathing and basking on the shore cannot be considered an employment but only an apotheosis of loafing.”
― E.F. Benson, The Collected Ghost Stories of E.F. Benson

“There is no place like the beach... where the land meets the sea and the sea meats the sky”
― Umair Siddiqui

“…I notice that people always make gigantic arrangements for bathing when they are going anywhere near the water, but that they don’t bathe much when they are there.

It is the same when you go to the sea-side. I always determine—when thinking over the matter in London—that I’ll get up early every morning, and go and have a dip before breakfast, and I religiously pack up a pair of drawers and a bath towel. I always get red bathing drawers. I rather fancy myself in red drawers. They suit my complexion so. But when I get to the sea I don’t feel somehow that I want that early morning bathe nearly so much as I did when I was in town.

On the contrary, I feel more that I want to stop in bed till the last moment, and then come down and have my breakfast. Once or twice virtue has triumphed, and I have got out at six and half-dressed myself, and have taken my drawers and towel, and stumbled dismally off. But I haven’t enjoyed it. They seem to keep a specially cutting east wind, waiting for me, when I go to bathe in the early morning; and they pick out all the three-cornered stones, and put them on the top, and they sharpen up the rocks and cover the points over with a bit of sand so that I can’t see them, and they take the sea and put it two miles out, so that I have to huddle myself up in my arms and hop, shivering, through six inches of water. And when I do get to the sea, it is rough and quite insulting.

One huge wave catches me up and chucks me in a sitting posture, as hard as ever it can, down on to a rock which has been put there for me. And, before I’ve said “Oh! Ugh!â€� and found out what has gone, the wave comes back and carries me out to mid-ocean. I begin to strike out frantically for the shore, and wonder if I shall ever see home and friends again, and wish I’d been kinder to my little sister when a boy (when I was a boy, I mean). Just when I have given up all hope, a wave retires and leaves me sprawling like a star-fish on the sand, and I get up and look back and find that I’ve been swimming for my life in two feet of water. I hop back and dress, and crawl home, where I have to pretend I liked it.”
― Jerome K. Jerome, Three Men in a Boat

“His mind has the clearness of the deep sea, the patience of its rocks, the force of its billows.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Shirley

“I then began to study arithmetical questions without any great apparent result, and without suspecting that they could have the least connexion with my previous researches. Disgusted at my want of success, I went away to spend a few days at the seaside, and thought of entirely different things. One day, as I was walking on the cliff, the idea came to me, again with the same characteristics of conciseness, suddenness, and immediate certainty, that arithmetical transformations of indefinite ternary quadratic forms are identical with those of non-Euclidian geometry.”
― Henri Poincaré, Science and Method

“They walked, and the long waves rolled and murmured rhythmically beside them; the fresh salty wind blew free and unobstructed in their faces, wrapped itself around their ears, and made them feel slightly numb and deliciously dizzy. They walked along in that wide, peaceful, whispering hush of the sea that gives every sound, near or far, some mysterious importance.”
― Thomas Mann, Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family

“She enjoyed the sights and sounds of the dockside â€� ports were places of freedom.”
― Sara Sheridan, On Starlit Seas

“Each year, we rent a house at the edge of the sea and drive there in the first of the summer—with the dog and cat, the children, and the cook—arriving at a strange place a little before dark. The journey to the sea has its ceremonious excitements, it has gone on for so many years now, and there is the sense that we are, as in our dreams we have always known ourselves to be, migrants and wanderers—travelers, at least, with a traveler’s acuteness of feeling." --from "“The Seaside Houses”
― John Cheever, The Stories of John Cheever

“He had spent much of his childhood perched on the coast, with the taste of salt in the air: this was a place of woodland and river, mysterious and secretive in a different way from St. Mawes, the little town with its long smuggling history, where colorful houses tumbled down to the beach.”
― Robert Galbraith, Career of Evil

“How many ghosts might return to the promenade, haunted by the echoes of those promises, perhaps eager to catch a glimpse of what could have been? Would they laugh at the survivors shuffling about in this briny detritus? Or would they cry?"

Reid, A. J. (2012-11-08). A Smaller Hell (Kindle Locations 885-886). . Kindle Edition.”
― A.J. Reid, A Smaller Hell

“When you feel yourself completely free, you will feel as if you are at a wonderful seaside!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“No silver seagrass or salt pans, no soldier crabs or sea tides to read, no seaweed necklaces to wear, and no skies filled with ghostly wisps of virga, warning of storms out at sea.
On either side of the flat highway the land was thirsty, dry as a cracked tongue. Somehow, though, the strange landscape teemed with life. It hummed in Alice's ears, the clicking buzz of cicadas, the occasional wild cackle of kookaburras. There was the occasional blur of color where wildflowers grew at the base of gum trees. Some had trunks as white as fairytale snow while others we're an ochre color, as glossy as if covered in a slick of wet paint.”
― Holly Ringland, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart

“In my dream I drank fully of water, but when I woke, I was thirsty." Ned Low”
― Patricia Goodwin, Dreamwater

“Found in trees. Sometimes also in old silent movie theaters, seaside zoos, magic shops, hat shops, time-travel shops, topiary gardents, cowboy boots, castle turrets, comet museums, dog pounds, mermaid ponds, dragon lairs, library stacks (the ones in the back), piles of leaves, piles of pancakes, the belly of a fiddle, the bell of a flower, or in the company of wild herds of typewriters.
But mostly in trees.”
― Michelle Cuevas, Confessions of an Imaginary Friend

“A stroll by the silent shores watching the sunset-Every bookaholic's dream.”
― Aanu

“I wonder if there is something wrong with me, she thought, that I can get so much from so little, because all my joy comes from not doing–not spending summer afternoons in stuffy drawing-rooms listening to women setting their neighboursâ€� morals to rights over the bridge table, not spending summer evenings listening to men and women setting the world’s affairs to right over five-course dinners, not sewing in circles, nor reading in groups. I must be very selfish, she thought, for I want set nothing and no-one right; all I want is to be left in peace to make what I can of this problem called life for myself and my children. What would the world be like, she wondered, if everyone minded his own business?”
― Josephine Leslie, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir

“A shore town without a boardwalk is like an ice-cream cone without sprinkles.”
― Cathy Newman

“And then, just as Toby’s eyelids were beginning to droop, from nowhere, came the distant singing of a female voice from across the sea.”
― Helen Laycock, Salt

“Some stuff can't be explained... I want to say "To Draw "How I paint" in "How I paint" in "How I paint" in "How I paint" in "How I paint"... (Which will mean a Paint in the Paint)
A seaside...”
― Deyth Banger

“I'm terrified of birds. Not just terrified to get attention, but so freaking terrified that if a bird landed right next to us - i'd leave you. No joke. I'd get in the car, and it's possible you'd hear very unmanly noises coming from my mouth."

She burst out laughing and wiped the tears from her eyes. "All birds? Or just seagulls?"

"All birds! I mean, c'mon! Have you ever seen an ostrich before? There's something very wrong about a bird that can look you straight in the eye. Know what I mean?”
― Rachel Van Dyken, Pull

“Who kissed in that position for so long? Finally - 17 hours later... okay, maybe like 2 minutes later, he pulled back and the passenger door opened. What the hell? The prick couldn't even open her door? Were his legs broken? Manners! Priscilla waved and then walked slowly toward the condo. Her smile was fake. That much I could tell. I hated that I was rejoicing inside. If she wasn't happy, that meant the kiss was bad, right? Right? Bloody rude, smelly, American with the manners of a freaking ass!”
― Rachel Van Dyken, Fall

“Storming out of the room, I dialed Peter's number. He answered on the third ring.

"What?"

"I need help."

"Shit! Are you in trouble?"

"I'm in Seaside! What the hell kind of trouble do you think I could get into? Humping a whale?”
― Rachel Van Dyken, Fall

“After another forty-five minutes, the train reached the station at Heron's Point, a seaside town located in the sunniest region in England. Even now in autumn, the weather was mild and clear, the air humid with healthful sea breezes. Heron's Point was sheltered by a high cliff that jutted far out into the sea and helped to create the town's own small climate. It was an ideal refuge for convalescents and the elderly, with a local medical community and an assortment of clinics and therapeutic baths. It was also a fashionable resort, featuring shops, drives and promenades, a theatre, and recreations such as golf and boating.
The Marsdens had often come here to stay with the duke's family, the Challons, especially in summer. The children had splashed and swum in the private sandy cove, and sailed near the shore in little skiffs. On hot days they had gone to shop in town for ices and sweets. In the evenings, they had relaxed and played on the Challons' back veranda, while music from the town band floated up from the concert pavilion. Merritt was glad to bring Keir to a familiar place where so many happy memories had been created. The seaside house, airy and calm and gracious, would be a perfect place for him to convalesce.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Happiness starts the day that you smile for no reason.”
― Anthony T. HIncks

“oh wind of the enormous sea
Whose sharp odor of salt revives the force in me,
Oh wind of the wide sea, carry sorrows away.”
― Renée Vivien, The Muse of the Violets: Poems

“Eating flaming ice cream at a time like this!”
― Lynne Truss, A Shot in the Dark