Saul Bellow

There was no stain in the water, where schools of minnows swam.  Herzog sighed and said to himself “Praise God... praise God.”  His breathing had become freer.  His heart was greatly stirred by the open horizon; the deep colours; the faint iodine pungency of the Atlantic rising from weeds and mollusks; the white, fine, heavy sand; but principally by the green transparency as he looked down to the stony bottom webbed with golden lines.  Never still.  If his soul could cast a reflection so brilliant, and so intensely sweet, he might beg God to make such use of him.  But that would be too simple.  But that would be too childish.  The actual sphere is not clear like this, but turbulent, angry.  A vast human action is going on.  Death watches.  So if you have some happiness, conceal it.  And when your heart is full, keep your mouth shut also.