cannot think of a
time that is oceanless have
Adapted from the passage:
Where is the end of them, the fishermen sailing
Into the wind’s tail, where the fog cowers?
We cannot think of a time that is oceanless
Or of an ocean not littered with wastage
Or of a future that is not liable
Like the past, to have no destination.
in Four Quartets, Dry Passages, Part II by TS Eliot.