Quotes About Rain

During the night, there had been a sound of water on the other side of the wall. In my sleep I was looking out from the fourth-floor bedroom at nearby buildings bathed in rain, gleaming with neon and streetlamp colours.

I knew immediately that it was different from other photographs. The night sky in the background was pure and black, so dark it made you dizzy if you stared at it too long. The rain drifted through the frame like a gentle mist, but right in the middle was a hollow area in the shape of a lima been.

The sound of the rain seemed louder in the study, as if the sky were actually lower there.

My memories don't feel as though they've been pulled up by the root. Even if they fade, something remains. Like tiny seeds that might germinate again if the rain falls. And even if a memory disappears completely, the heart retains something. A slight tremor or pain

The gentle patter of the rain was punctuated by the scratching of pencil on paper.

My memories don't feel as though they've been pulled up by the root. Even if they fade, something remains. Like tiny seeds that might germinate again if the rain falls. And even if a memory disappears completely, the heart retains something. A slight tremor or pain, some bit of joy, a tear.

A lightning flash lit up the shadows. Rain was falling gently. The window panes themselves were weeping. Be careful, Younes, I thought, you're wallowing in self-pity. But what did that matter? This was what I saw: the windows crying. I wanted to see tears streak the window panes, I wanted to feel sorry for myself, I wanted to dissolve body and soul into my grief.

Dear Moldenke, Whether or not you have feelings for me, or feelings at all, I do have feelings about you. They increased when you compared my nipples to pencil erasers. No one has been so gentle to me. The clouds are promising rain. Love, Cock Roberta.

The sun comes out but the rain stays put. No rainbows today. Not here.

It was raining so hard now that the whole city looked underwater. I wished to Christ it was, that the rain would drown the people and wash the place the fuck away.

This is CID homicide, mister, and neither heat nor rain nor gloom of night will stay these men from their rendezvous with callousness. Cruel jokes? The cruelest. Sick humor? The sickest. And, you ask, how can they possibly do it? Volume. That's right, volume. They won't be outsold, they won't be undersold; they will solve no crime before its time.

Ne me retire pas l'idée, aussi incertaine soit-elle, que s'aventurer est toujours plus vivifiant que se contenir, que ce qui s'élance a plus de grâce que ce qui se ramasse. Un jour qui se lève, aussi merdique soit-il, même en novembre, même par temps de pluie, est toujours plus prometteur qu'un soir de juin qui a tout dit.

When I hear that rain makes a sound, I will ask: does the sunshine make a noise?

We'd have to dance beforehand anywhere else but here, where rain is already happening, how simple it all seems to persuade the gods to bring their heaven down, to shower us with that most comfortable answer to a prayer; results before the fact.

They had puddled in the floorboards and they poured out onto the pavement like the jackpot from the Devil's slot machine, the bugs raining down with a sound like frying bacon.

I squinted drunkenly into the rearview mirror and tried in vain to find the headlights of the black truck that was chasing us, but I actually wasn't sure if its drivers needed headlights to see or if they even had eyes. I also wasn't sure it was a truck, or if it was black, or if we were being pursued at all. It was definitely raining, though.

The magic of purpose and of love in its purest form. Not televison love, with its glare and hollow and sequined glint; not sex and allure, all high shoes and high drama, everything both too small and in too much excess, but just love. Love like rain, like the smell of a tangerine, like a surprise found in your pocket.

Love in its purest form. Not television love, with its glare and hollow and sequined glint; not sex and allure, all high shoes and high drama, everything both too small and in too much excess. But just love. Love like rain, like the smell of a tangerine, like a surprise found in your pocket.

When I stood there, looking out the window at the raindrops and thinking of everything I lost, I forgot everything I have. When I remembered everything I have, I forgot everything I lost.

a wind has blown the rain away & the sky away & all the leaves away, & the trees stand. i think i, too, have known autumn too long.

I am sure it is a great mistake always to know enough to go in when it rains. One may keep snug and dry by such knowledge, but one misses a world of loveliness.

I walk with Rafe to the End of the Rainbow. With his wild ginger hair and beard flattened by the rain, he looks like a wet haystack. He catches me grinning at him. "Well, you don't look like any GQ guy yourself," he says, and then we're laughing like maniacs while the rain pours down on us.

C'est pour ça que je ne le vis pas venir et c'est pour ça que je ne distinguai pas le moment juste où sa musique commença ; mais, tout d'un coup, elle sauta hors de la pluie et je sus qu'il était là.

It was still very wet under the trees. A careless tug at a branch might flip cold rainbow-edged drops down your back. And the sky was gray as concrete. But they enjoyed the silence, the soft sucking ground matted with last year's needles.