Quotes About Sun

and when he dies, cut him out in little stars, and the face of heaven will be so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no heed to the garish sun.

Pero, alto. ¿Qué luz alumbra esa ventana? Es el oriente, y Julieta, el sol. Sal, bello sol, y mata a la luna envidiosa, que está enferma y pálida de pena porque tú, que la sirves, eres más hermoso.

love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over louring hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.

O that I were a mockery king of snow Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke To melt myself away in water drops!

I think the sun where he were born drew all such humours from him.

the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles ripened by the sun Forbid the sun to enter, like favorites Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it.

O know, sweet love, I always write of you, And you and love are still my argument, So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told.

Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadowed livery of the burnished sun, To whom I am a neighbor and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incision for your love To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.

I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun; The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief.

As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break, so from that spring whence comfort seemed to come discomfort swells.

That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were!

A beauty masked, like the sun in eclipse, gathers together more gazers than if it shined out.

I do not suppose that at any moment of history has the agony of the world been so great or widespread. Tonight the sun goes down on more suffering than ever before in the world.

Aveva visto il gelo disegnare motivi simili a foglie sul vetro, gocce di pioggia scorrere come lacrime su vecchie guance, il primo sole di primavera splendere polveroso sul tappeto turco e sulle assi di quercia macchiate del pavimento.

The light had flooded the land long before the sun was up, and the sea, where wisps of mist clung to it, looked like milk in a pan being heated to make cream.

I am also at this point accustomed to reaffirm with emphasis my conviction that the sun is real, and also that it is hot--in fact as hot as Hell, and if the metaphysicians doubt it they should go there and see.

En el tercer planeta del sol la conciencia limpia y tranquila es síntoma primordial de animalidad.

To my mind, faith is like being in the sun. When you are in the sun, can you avoid creating a shadow? Can you shake that area of darkness that clings to you, always shaped like you, as if constantly to remind you of yourself? You can't. This shadow is doubt. And it goes wherever you go as long as you stay in the sun. And who wouldn't want to be in the sun?

A good day is one where I can not just read a book, but write a review of it. Maybe today I'll be able to do that. I get for some reason somewhat stronger when the sun starts to go down. Dusk is a good time for me. I'm crepuscular.

The level sun, warily peering over the edge like a cautious marksman, fired golden volleys unerringly at him. At once Gissing was aware and watchful. Brief truce was over: the hopeless war with Time began anew.

People have accused me of being in favor of globalization. This is equivalent to accusing me of being in favor of the sun rising in the morning.

I carry out sun rituals on the slopes of high mountains. But I am also taboo for myself, untouchable because forbidden.