Quotes About Rain

The global environment crisis is, as we say in Tennessee, real as rain, and I cannot stand the thought of leaving my children with a degraded earth and a diminished future.

Most near-future fictions are boring. It's always dark and always raining, and people are so unhappy.

The post office has a great charm at one point of our lives. When you have lived to my age, you will begin to think letters are never worth going through the rain for.

I'll turn my back and walk away, away from the pain. Scream it loud, drown it out by the sound of the rain. Listen up, I've had enough all this waiting. I need you more right now than I ever did!

A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.

Love. They say will set you free. So why am I behind bars? Why is my mind so far from where I want to be. I tried to release this pain, but what will I gain? All I see is fog. All I see is rain. I am just a lost heart. Chained. I'm in this cage. Outraged.

Without love, all worship is a burden, all dancing is a chore, all music is mere noise. All the rain of heaven may fall into the sea. Without love, not one drop could become a pearl.

Looking back at the days you were sitting next to me, feels like it would last forever. In a blink of an eye, I would go back to the moment we were walking slowly, hand in hand under the pouring rain. You looked at me and there it was agian, the smile that I can never resist. Days such as those I'll never forget.

You could always make me laugh, you listened to my pain, you turned my nights into sunshine when my days had often been rain.

First smile!! An unseasonal little shower of rain fell here, and a lot of butterflies drowned, so we put them in the sun and they came back to life, and flew up and then Agaat SMILED!

You know you're an Arizona native when... a rainy day puts you in a good mood.

She stood up, went to the window by the door, stared mournfully out at the day. The rain had stopped. the sun had come out, burning heat through the trees, sucking the moisture right back up into the brilliant blue prairie sky, She saw the way this fierce naked light hit the empty street. She saw the sky with its thin line of evaporating clouds and tried to think about herself in the future. But no image would come. ... Nothing. The emptiness of it all filled her with dread.

Jade was having her first clutch at the end of the second rain season, and Moon was beginning to have doubts about his ability to survive the process.

Oh Christ, the exhaustion of not knowing anything. It's so tiring and hard on the nerves. It really takes it out of you, not knowing anything. You're given comedy and miss all the jokes. Every hour you get weaker. Sometimes, as I sit alone in my flat in London and stare at the window, I think how dismal it is, how heavy, to watch the rain and not know why it falls.

Oh Christ, the exhaustion of not knowing anything. It's so tiring and hard on the nerves. It really takes it out of you, not knowing anything. You're given comedy and miss all the jokes. Every hour you get weaker. Sometimes, as I sit alone in my flat in London and stare at the window, I think how dismal it is, how heavy, to watch the rain and not know why it falls.

Ploaia este cuvântul de recunoaÈ™tere printre cei ispitiÈ›i de o oarecare suspendare a lumii. S? spui c? îÈ›i place ploaia înseamn? s? te recunoÈ™ti diferit.

Silence gradually spread its great, fragile butterfly wings across the ward. The sun had disappeared, replaced by grey and rain. This particular month of July was reading the script for March.

Când plou?, oamenii citesc, merg la cinema È™i se îndr?gostesc, artiÈ™tii lucreaz?, soldaÈ›ii ramân în corturi. Dar ce fac b?rbaÈ›ii si femeile când nu plou?? Fac plaj?, pierd vremea în faÈ›a vitrinelor magazinelor de îmbr?c?minte, organizeaz? garden parties È™i masacre. Au loc mai multe r?zboaie în ??rile s?race în precipitaÈ›ii.

Muzica a fost inventat? pentru a compensa absen?a ploii.

In the rain-swept afternoon my heart discovers the tragedy of autumn raining from the trees.

umbrellas, Scotch whiskey, bicycles, balloons...

There is another sort of beauty playing always about the Pueblo country, beauty of cloud and rain and split sunlight... Everywhere peace, impenetrable timelessness of peace, as though the pueblo and all it contains were shut in a glassy fourth dimension, near and at the same time inaccessibly remote.

Love is something like the clouds that were in the sky, Before the sun came out. You cannot touch the clouds, you know; but you feel the rain and know How glad the flowers and the thirsty earth are to have it after a hot day. You cannot touch love either, But you feel the sweetness that it pours into everything.

Some say it's the sun, some say it's the rain, but I know it's Love that makes things grow.