Quotes About Rain

The judge tilted his great head. The man who believes that the secrets of the world are forever hidden lives in mystery and fear. Superstition will drag him down. The rain will erode the deeds of his life. But that man who sets himself the task of singling out the thread of order from the tapestry will by the decision alone have taken charge of the world and it is only by such taking charge that he will effect a way to dictate the terms of his own fate.

The old man lay dim and bleared in his brass bed. Suttree leaned back in the chair and pushed at his eyes with the back of his hand. The day had grown dusk, the rain eased. Pigeons flapped up overhead and preened and crooned. The keeper of this brief vigil said that he'd guessed something of the workings in the wings, the ropes and sand-bags and the houselight toggles. Heard dimly a shuffling and coughing beyond the painted drop of the world.

The lights of the city hovered in a nimbus and again stood fractured in the black river, isinglass image, tangled broken shapes splash of lights along the bridgewalk following the elliptic and receding rows of the pole lamps across to meet them. The rhythmic arc of the wipers on the glass lulled him and he coasted out onto the bridge, into the city shrouded in rain and silence, the cars passing him slowly, their headlamps wan, watery lights in sorrowful progression.

He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. You will come, won't you? Promisse! he whispered.

Night was fading over the fields as if the rain had washed the darkness out of the hem of its garment.

It was a chilly morning after the night's rain, and the sun hung in the sky like a pale coin lost by someone high up in the clouds.

The rain pummeled the old Dragon bones as though to provide the rhythm to the song of their mortality, but death was not what they had on their minds—or wasn't love sometimes called the small death?

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white, and in between the moon and you, the angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. I walk in the air, between the rain, through myself and back again where? I don't know.

i have found what you are like the rain (Who feathers frightened fields with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields easily the pale club of the wind and swirled justly souls of flower strike the air in utterable coolness deeds of gren thrilling light with thinned newfragile yellows lurch and.press --in the woods which stutter and sing And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms;but i should rather than anything have(almost when hugeness will shut quietly)almost, your kiss

Out here, there was salt on the wind itself that fell on your skin like rain. You could taste it. Out here the sun heated and the wind cooled, and the waves sang their constant song.

The wood was silent, still and secret in the evening drizzle of rain, full of the mystery of eggs and half-open buds, half unsheathed flowers. In the dimness of it all trees glistened naked and dark as if they had unclothed themselves, and the green things on earth seemed to hum with greenness.

The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to the musical rain

Nature isn't still. Nature is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, just like the rest of us. It's winds and floods and rain and quakes. A huge part of human history is about us just trying to survive the speed of nature.

The cloud is free only to go with the wind. The rain is free only in falling.

The river and the garden have been the foundations of my economy here. Of the two I have liked the river best. It is wonderful to have the duty of being on the river the first and last thing every day. I have loved it even in the rain. Sometimes I have loved it most in the rain.

The world goes up and the world goes down, And the sunshine follows the rain; And yesterday's sneer and yesterday's frown Can never come over again, Sweet wife. No, never come over again.

Germany Schaefer, trying to send a subtle hint to umpire Billy Evans that the game ought to be called, appeared at second base wearing a yellow rain slicker,

The rain washed away my pitcher's mound... I'm a pitcher without a mound... I'm a lost soul... I'm like a politician out of office." "Or a sailor without an ocean..." "Or a boy without a girl...

Rats! Sometimes it's very difficult being a dog... Especially when it's raining. You're looking forward to a great breakfast... When it arrives, you're full of joyful anticipation... Then you see the water rise in your dog dish... And you watch your pancakes float downstream!

Life has its sunshine and its rain, sir... its days and its nights... its peaks and its valleys...

Oh, you tears, I'm thankful that you run. Though you trickle in the darkness, You shall glitter in the sun. The rainbow could not shine if the rain refused to fall; And the eyes that cannot weep are the saddest eyes of all.

They wheeled out the ash blonde who believes herself already dead into the spike-fenced garden of the hospital for the insane. Her name was Amy or Ann, but she didn't answer to either one. She kept her eyes tightly shut. [...] Some of it was told to me by a shivering young man who insisted that it's been raining for years, even indoors. "Coming down real hard," he said.

I like the silence between us, The quiet–that holy state even the rain Knows about. Listen to her begin to fall, As if with eyes closed, Muting each drop in her wild-beating heart. — Charles Simic, closing lines to "This Morning," A Wedding in Hell (Harcourt Brace & Co., 1994)

I spent six hours becoming one with a shrubbery last night. There were three cloudbursts and a rain of small and very confused frogs