Quotes About Sun

A torpid sun seeped through a haze of humidity

Before it is science and career, before it is livelihood, before even it is family or love, freedom is sound sleep and safety to notice the play of morning sun.

Think what great love Christ has showed unto us, and how little we have deserved, and this will make our hearts to melt and be as pliable as wax before the sun.

There's always a good reason to rejoice. There is a God in Heaven and in the heart. I had a piece of bread this morning. It was so good! Look now, the sun is shining! And so many here love me! Every day you do not rejoice is a day lost, my son!

Why not see which is brighter: your aura or the sun?

A pesar del frío, brillaba el sol, y sus rayos alumbraron de fondo su cabello. El podría haber sido un ángel, pensé. • capítulo 13

There is just one moon and one golden sun—" Sun! Finn thought. What were they missing? "And a smile means friendship to ev'ryone—

Flirtation – After all, there's no need to say anything at first. An orange, peeled and quartered, flares like a tulip on a wedgwood plate. Anything can happen. Outside the sun has rolled up her rugs and night strewn salt across the sky. My heart is humming a tune I haven't heard in years! Quiet's cool flesh– let's sniff and eat it. There are ways to make of the moment a topiary so the pleasure's in walking through.

The Sun, each second, transforms four million tons of itself into light, giving itself over to become energy that we, with every meal, partake of. For four million years, humans have been feasting on the Sun's energy stored in the form of wheat or reindeer. Brian Swimme

Harshaw was working as hard as he ever worked. Most of his mind was occupied with watching pretty girls do pretty things with sun and water;

You asked what Hazel would do. She'd be along her homing line, of course—and Hazel always oriented around her drive line so as to get the Sun on the back of her neck, if possible. Her eyes aren't too good.

The sun surrendered its splendor—why, it was like poetry; he was a poet; Norman smiled. He was many things. If they only knew—— But

Have you found your life distasteful? My life did and does smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I save and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I'll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.

Life is a pure flame, and we live by an invisible Sun within us.

That Sunday, the sun floated bright and hot over the Los Angeles basin, pushing people to the beaches and the parks and into backyard pools to escape the heat. The air buzzed with the nervous palsy it gets when the wind freight-trains in from the deserts, dry as bone, and cooking the hillsides into tar-filled kindling that can snap into flames hot enough to melt an auto body.

The sun was low above Catalina, pushing bright yellow rectangles up my eastern wall when the door opened and Joe Pike walked in. I tipped what was maybe the second or third Modelo bottle at him. "Life in the fast lane," I said. Maybe it was the fourth. "Uh-huh.

Martin nodded, his head snapping up and down. He was wearing baggy gray sweatpants and no shirt. His torso was soft and undeveloped and covered with a thick growth of fine hair. He squinted against the bright morning sun. "Yeah, sure. What do you want?

Pike slipped behind the wheel of his Jeep, lowered the sun visor, then started the engine. None of the three men looked toward the enormous Do-It-Yourself parking lot across the street. They would have seen nothing if they had. The Jeep was just another tree in a two-hundred-tree forest. Pike

Dawn wore a pink dress and crept across the land like a timid girl. Her sister Morning followed, dressed in blue, the sun a dazzling locket on her breast.

A saturated meadow, Sun-shaped and jewel-small

They told me that Billy would never come back any more, and I stared out of the window at the sun which came back, right enough, every day, and their news conveyed nothing whatever to me.

You're like something drawn with the sun's fire, and I can take only little glimpses of you.

As long as your knife keeps pretending it's a mini sun, we should be all right.

Occasionally, the light seemed to arrive from a distinct direction, like the sun slanting through a gap in a curtain, but often it simply infused whatever aches or traumas afflicted people. At such times, it had the appearance of a strange luminescent paint layered directly over their skin. They might have been angels in an El Greco painting.