Quotes About Sun

It was morning, and the new sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea.

Everything smelled of sheep. The dandelions were suddenly more sheep than flower, each petal reflecting wool and the sound of a bell ringing off the yellow. But the thing that smelled the most like sheep, was the very sun itself. When the sun went behind a cloud, the smell of the sheep decreased, like standing on some old guy's hearing aid, and when the sun came back again, the smell of the sheep was loud, like a clap of thunder inside a coffee cup. (from On Paradise, page 50)

The sun was like a huge fifty-cent piece that someone had poured kerosene on and then had lit with a match and said, Here, hold this while I go get a newspaper, and put the coin in my hand, but never came back.

The Hopi tribe of North America had a goddess called Spider Woman. In their creation myth she teamed up with Tawa the sun god, and they sang the First Magic Song as a duet. This song brought the Earth, and life, into being. Spider Woman then took the threads of Tawa's thoughts and wove them into solid form, creating fish, birds, and all other animals.

The chances of each of us coming into existence are infinitesimally small, and even though we shall all die some day, we should count ourselves fantastically lucky to get our decades in the sun.

Why at the beginning of things is there always light? Dorrigo Evans' earliest memories were of sun flooding a church hall in which he sat with his mother and grandmother. A wooden church hall. Blinding light and him toddling back and forth, in and out of its transcendent welcome, into the arms of women. Women who loved him. Like entering the sea and returning to the beach. Over and over.

Stories as written are progressive, sentence must build upon sentence as brick upon brick, yet the beauty of this life in its endless mystery is circular. Sun & moon, spheres endlessly circling. Black man, full circle; white man, bisected circle; life, the third circle, on & on, & round & round.

And I am in the crowd just as the drums are passing - always the last in line - their boom-boom-booming in my ears, and all around. I see the sun above the street, breathe in the day's rich, warm smell. Someone calls out, Clear a path, make room, make room please! The trumpets go again. My heartbeat quickens. I feel the push, the pull, the weave and sway of others.

There are ruins, steeped in shadow, and a bloodred sun going down in turmoil behind distant hills. Overhead soft-bellied clouds panic toward the horizon like whales before the harpoon, and the wind runs addict's fingers through the trees that line the street.

There's a general hate in the hearts of men. You went to war, Gil, you should know that better than anyone. It's like the heat of the sun. Men like Kaad are just the focal figures, like lenses to gather the sun's rays on kindling. You can smash a lens, but that won't put out the sun.

I am only a literary lizard basking the day away beneath the great sun of Beauty. That's all.

Una explosión de sol... todo se volvió iridiscente y se resquebrajó, como si los objetos y los humanos contuvieran luz. Fue la entrada más luminosa a la oscuridad.

He used to say, God is everywhere. In the work of your hands; in the beating of a bird's wings; in the roots of an oak and in the stones of the riverbed. In the rising of the sun. In the heart of a man. In the wonders we know, and those that are beyond our knowing.

I give thanks for this good earth beneath my feet," I murmured. "I give thanks for the sun that warms it and brings forth the new shoots. I give thanks for the rain that nourishes great oak and creeping moss, filling the flowing river and the tranquil pond. I give thanks for the clear air I breathe. I give thanks for the gift of life.

And there is a greater magic; a power that comes from the very land we tread, from ocean and forest, from the deepest cavern to the high pathways of sun and moon. When the path ahead seems dark and difficult, when you cannot find the right way, call on that power to guide you, for within each of us, even the smallest, there is a spark of that great fire.

He determinado para la luna fases, hasta que se pone como la palma seca. No le está bien al sol alcanzar a la luna, ni a la noche adelantar al día: cada uno navega en su propia órbita»

When the sun shines o'er the loch and sparkles on the water like diamond drops, ye know one thing: somewhere there's a MacLean who is smilin'.

The next day I lay out on the grass in our backyard and I looked straight into the sun, the way my mother had told me never to do because it would damage my eyes. I thought that I would grow up to be a famous artist and everything and everyone I saw, everything and everyone I painted, would be blinding to look at.

The morning sun danced on her hair, transforming the brown to gold and reddish glints. An errant sunbeam angled over her face, dusting her long lashes with light, accentuating the perfection of her nose, her cheekbones, and the beauty of her complexion.

Thus, when the universal sun has set, does the moth seek the lamp-light of privacy.

It's no coincidence that the women who spray perfume all over themselves are always the ones with an orange tan too. I put it down to the fact that all the CFC gases they pump out burn up the ozone above their heads, so the sun tans them the most. Obvious, innit.

Woman was formed to admire; man to be admirable. His are the glories of the sun at noonday; hers the softened splendors of the midnight moon.

Not for any one man's delight has Nature made the sun, the wind, the waters; all are free.

The human spirit may be likened to the bounty of the sun shining on a mirror. The body of man, ... grows and develops through the animal spirit.