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He was sailing over a boundless expanse of sea, with a blood-red sky above, and the angry waters, lashed into fury beneath, boiling and eddying up, on every side. There was another vessel before them, toiling and labouring in the howling storm: her canvas fluttering in ribbons from the mast.
— Charles Dickens
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We all remember where we were and we all remember what we were doing. I had a brother in New York, an uncle, lots of friends in New York. It made me angry, it made me sad; what could I do.
— Timothy Bottoms
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