18-34 “He snorts and the world lights up with fire,he blinks and the dawn breaks.Comets pour out of his mouth,fireworks arc and branch.Smoke erupts from his nostrilslike steam from a boiling pot.He blows and fires blaze;flames of fire stream from his mouth.All muscle he is—sheer and seamless muscle.To meet him is to dance with death.Sinewy and lithe,there’s not a soft spot in his entire body—As tough inside as out,rock-hard, invulnerable.Even angels run for cover when he surfaces,cowering before his tail-thrashing turbulence.Javelins bounce harmlessly off his hide,harpoons ricochet wildly.Iron bars are so much straw to him,bronze weapons beneath notice.Arrows don’t even make him blink;bullets make no more impression than raindrops.A battle ax is nothing but a splinter of kindling;he treats a brandished harpoon as a joke.His belly is armor-plated, inexorable—unstoppable as a barge.He roils deep ocean the way you’d boil water,he whips the sea like you’d whip an egg into batter.With a luminous trail stretching out behind him,you might think Ocean had grown a gray beard!There’s nothing on this earth quite like him,not an ounce of fear in that creature!He surveys all the high and mighty—king of the ocean, king of the deep!”