Quotes About Sun

The little space within the heart is as great as the vast universe. The heavens and the earth are there, and the sun and the moon and the stars. Fire and lightening and winds are there, and all that now is and all that is not.

A ring of gold with the sun in it? Lies. Lies and a grief. --from The Couriers, written 4 November 1962

A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.

The sun, emerged from its gray shrouds of cloud, shone with a summer brilliance on the untouched slopes. Pausing in my work to overlook that pristine expanse, I felt the same profound thrill it gives me to see the trees and grassland waist-high under flood water—as if the usual order of the world had shifted slightly, and entered a new phase.

And times there are when you feel very wise and ageless. You are sunning on the rocks, the water splashing at your feet, when a small chubby freckle faced girl of about ten approaches you, her hand holding something that is invisible, but evidently quite precious. 'Do you know,' she asks earnestly, 'do starfish like hot or cold water best?

Un soare imperturbabil È™i alb str?lucea în vârful cerului. Îmi venea s? m? È™lefuiesc de la el pân? când deveneam sfînt? È™i esenÈ›ial? c? lama unui cuÈ›it.

Sun, seeping through the blinds, filled my bedroom with a sulfurous light. I didn't know how long I had slept, but I felt one big twitch of exhaustion.

The sun will diminish it soon enough: Each wave-tip glitters like a knife.

Sun struck the water like a damnation. No pit of shadow to crawl into, And his blood beating the old tattoo I am, I am, I am.

The husk of a man in the woods below me bled into a creek that fed into a river that sparkled gaily in the winter sun.

Summer's End Cruel orb, my foe, the sun, Glaring upon things I never want to see again The proud, lightning-limbed oaks Of Hekhasor The shimmering blue waters of Silverhome's lake And the endless, endless sky Go away, foul sun! You make me sad.

To snuff a candle is pleasing. But to finish you, my dear, is to blot out a sun. How could I resist it?

At midday, beaten almost flat by the hammer of the sun, the desert lay in the perfect imitation of one near death. A deception. Life lurked and thrived in its own way just beneath the skin of the desert. Husks, buried shards, last treasures, veins of water, and magic. While at dusk, the dying thing would rise and shake itself, and stretch to receive the cold balm of the stars.

The noon sun, raying through the orange trees, fired his elegant silk clothes, and revealed his hair as pure light. It was a fitting halo for the marvellous face Mareme had compared to an angel's-though whether of the heavenly variety or one of the descended sort, it was somehow hard to be sure.

Your childhood sun-corner is where you are when the call sounds.

Wadsworth Moor Where the millstone of sky Grinds light and shadow so purple-fine And has ground it so long Grinding the skin off the earth Earth bleeds her raw true darkness A land naked now as a wound That the sun swabs and dabs Where the miles of agony are numbness And harebell and heather a euphoria

It's just after three o'clock when we hit County Road 50. The temperature has swelled past ninety and the sun scorches our backs as we swerve our bikes around pools of bubbling tar.

The naked earth is warm with Spring, And with green grass and bursting trees Leans to the sun's kiss glorying, And quivers in the sunny breeze.

A rose lay open in full bloom and, looking from my garden room, I watched the sun-baked flower fill with rain. It seemed so fragile, resting there, and such a silence filled the air, the beauty of the moment caused me pain. "What more?" I thought. "There must be more." As if in answer then, I saw one weighty drop that caused my rose to fall. It trembled, then cascaded down to earth just staining gentle brown and, since then, I've felt different. That's all.

Before going back to sleep I imagined (I saw) a plastic universe, changeable, full of wondrous chance, an elastic sky, a sun that suddenly is missing or remains fixed or changes its shape.

contemplé la ciudad abajo, una geometría cubista reverberante bajo el sol de julio. Parecía como si la ciudad entera fuera un reflejo de la que fue y que tanto me costaba reconocer.

with the sun sliding out of the sky like spit off a wall . . .

There is a time for deeper things to open your mind and inspire, with the promise of new life. A bricolage of of seasons and reasons when the sun is warm and the wind is chill. Before the reckless bloom of pure spring,

When the townsfolk emerged from their homes a couple of hours later to raise their faces to the golden sun rising briefly above the distant mountains, they were greeted not with the usual whisper of falling snow, but with clanks and thumps and what may have been Gallifreyan swearwords drifting from the upper section of the Clock Tower. Distracted