And if that is the Foremast, what do you think that sail might be called, Mr. Wheeler?""The Foresail?""Very good, Mr. Wheeler, and the next one up would be called..."..."The Next Sail, Sir?""Alas, no, Mr. Wheeler.

When the sails are strong a ship has no reason to fear turbulence.

I closed my eyes, adding dark to dark, and the wanting unfurled like the sails of a phantom ship. This could be my universe. This nowhere world, circumscribed by skin and breath, where nothing mattered but two bodies moving together. The past and the future rendered irrelevant by the beauty of the now, the sum of the self transmuted into a moment. Oh, was there ever a more seductive definition of madness?

The winds of grace are blowing all the time, but it is you that must raise your sails.

When your life feels like you're on a sailboat, with no wind to fill your sails, there are still choices. You can drop anchor and enjoy your surroundings. Start your motor, if you have one. Grab an oar and start paddling, or wait for the wind to fill your sails once again. There are always other choices while crossing the ocean of life…