Quotes About Rain

Beautiful, see the cloud, the cloud appear. Beautiful, see the rain, the rain draw near...

For minutes on end he could not tell whether he was really hearing howls of pain, or whether it was simply that his years of long, exhausting work had rendered him incapable of distinguishing between the general noise and ancient prehistoric screams that were somehow preserved in time ('the evidence of suffering does not disappear without a trace,' he hopefully remarked) and now were being raised by the rain, like dust.

Limerick gained a reputation for piety, but we knew it was only the rain.

Don't be sad! Because God sends hope in the most desperate moments. Don't forget, the heaviest rain comes out of the darkest clouds.

Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water.

My love turns me like a salt sea, it seems, Into sweet drops of autumn's first rain. I'm brought to you slowly as I fall. Take me in. For us there's no angel who will come to redeem. For we are together. Each of us alone.

The rain is speaking quietly, you can sleep now. Near my bed, the rustle of newspaper wings. There are no other angles. I'll wake up early and bribe the coming day to be kind to us.

A guest is like rain: when he lingers on, he becomes a nuisance.

No one's words can compete with this mercilessly powerful rain. The only thing that can compete with the sound of this rain, that can smash this deathlike wall of sound, is the shout of a man who refuses to stoop to this chatter, the shout of a simple spirit that knows no words.

An optimist sees rainbows when there is rain.

Morning sunrise wakes me up with rays of hope. Clouds of fear can hide the sun but not for long. If rays of hope are strong and patience is a song, then hope will bloom and rain will bring a rainbow.

A bedraggled woman stood on his doorstep in the pouring rain, and his first impulse was to slam the door in her face. But she had clearly come as far as she could; her pale face was twisted in pain, and she shivered convulsively beneath a denim jacket that was as soaking wet as the rest of her. Long black strands of hair hung down in twisted ribbons like seaweed in the vanishing daylight, reminding him of a sea creature he'd once dated briefly in his more adventurous youth.

Not really riding weather, is it, miss? Unless you're a duck." He chuckled at his own joke. "Quack," Jenna said...

We're kissing in the rain.' Her voice was hard and soft at the same time. Like the velvet armchairs. Like the black rain inked on his hand.

J.K. watches a storm rage into the crimson afternoon. The sky is electric. Rain whips her bare arms and legs. Dustbins are hauled into the air, caught on the wind's curve. Bags and pillowcase unpacked for a while, toothbrush, perfume, books, a little pile of yellow feathers, J.K. knows she too is caught in the wind. She is Europe's eerie child, and she is part of the storm." (from "Swallowing Geography" by Deborah Levy)

Tipping her head back, he bracketed her face. "Death and the deuce, but I love you, Billy girl." He kissed her again. She pressed herself against him. Neither noticed the rain, only the storm that brewed inside them.

he walked, he wrapped his arms around his thin frame for warmth and tried to find resignation. It's just rain. This is nothing important. I accept it. I'm at peace. But resignation was empty peace, with no real satisfaction. What else could he try? Reverence.

I had been here during heavy rain, the kind of rain that becomes pleasurable to watch because it makes of the house a haven. The rooms in which one moves become a world apart from the wet streets, the sodden garden.

I had been here during heavy rain, the kind of rain that becomes pleasurable to watch because it makes of the house of a haven. The rooms in which one moves become a world apart from the wet streets, the sodden garden.

Those who hate rain hate life.

Nothing reminds us of an awakening more than rain.

God is a cloud from which rain fell.

Long ago an uncalled rain fell and a called-upon God stayed equally distant.

Rain-diamonds, this winter morning, embellish the tangle of unpruned pear-tree twigs; each solitaire, placed, it appears, with considered judgement, bears the light beneath the rifted clouds - the invisible shared out in endless abundance.