Quotes About Sun

Beyond the ephemeral and the dark stands "a sign from eternity, solemn and mighty, bathed in the radiance of the divine sun of grace and light—the cross. And there [God] hangs, his arms outstretched as if to embrace the entire world in love."42

There's a book called "A Dictionary of Angels." No one has opened it in fifty years, I know, because when I did, The covers creaked, the pages Crumbled. There I discovered The angels were once as plentiful As species of flies. The sky at dusk Used to be thick with them. You had to wave both arms Just to keep them away. Now the sun is shining Through the tall windows. The library is a quiet place. Angels and gods huddled In dark unopened books.

Because then I might have known whether the light's in the sun or the sun's in the light.

I feel like I'm forgetting something. Vyrus. Clans. Zombies. Stay out of the sun. Don't get shot. Abandon your life. Drink blood to survive. No, guess that pretty much covers it.

I met his eyes because I could not refuse them... they were the color of a storm clashing with a setting sun.

In moments among my various agonies, I noticed the beauty that surrounded me, the wonder of things both small and large: the color of a desert flower that brushed against me on the trail or the grand sweep of the sky as the sun faded over the mountains.

You only need the light when it is burning low Only miss the sun when it starts to snow.   How

You only need the light when it is burning low Only miss the sun when it starts to snow.

Did I love her? Did the earth go around the sun? Did night follow day?

Sun coaxes life from the earth with its warmth — Grow, thrive, breathe green things of the land wake from your winter's nap and joyously reach for the spring — Colors burst into vibrant being — fresh fireworks on verdant stems of life

I hear the passing echoes of winter and feel the warming springtime sun.

Summer has set in with its usual severity.

The sun tires of summer and sighs itself into autumn.

I'll tell you how the Sun rose – A Ribbon at a time....

The Sun is Low, to Say the Least, Although it is Well-Red; Yet, Since it Rises in the Yeast, It Should be Better Bred!

Colors of the summer sun illuminate the meadow. Gold, the massed gold of hawkweed; the burnished gold of black-eyed Susans; the delicate, demure gold of stargrass, cousin of the daffodil; and the sun's very rays captured by the field's wild sunflowers.

The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue, Splitting some planet with its playful tail, As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.

Now had the season returned when the nights grow colder and longer, And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters...

The sky is that beautiful old parchment in which the sun and the moon keep their diary...

Day holds the sky with big blue arms Until the sun sends her off into evening With a grateful blaze of vibrant colors

The low sun stares through dust of gold...

Is there anything more loyal than the sun?

Moonlight is a beautiful and comforting reminder that the sun is still out there somewhere.

The sun is the epitome of benevolence — it is lifegiving and warmthgiving and happinessgiving, and to it we owe our thanksgiving.