Arctic Ocean

At Studio Stagetti, I shot a man with more picks and axes than I have ever seen outside an arctic expedition.

They are so rich in harmony, so weird, so wild, that when you hear them you are like a sea-weed cast upon the bosom of the ocean.

It was depressing to think of going to bed in such circumstances with the yelling of an Arctic storm for a lullaby.

When it cleared, the valley was a solid expanse of white, and the stars shone out as if in an Arctic sky.

His soul was tossed on the billows of a tempestuous ocean, in the midst of which he saw his father perishing.

Monsieur Farival thought that Victor should have been taken out in mid-ocean in his earliest youth and drowned.