Quotes About Rain

I don't just wish you rain, Beloved - I wish you the beauty of storms...

with you, I find peace from pain - You are gentle and healing like the landscape—like rain...

I live in Ireland every day in a drizzly dream of a Dublin walk...

only darkened trails of rain could paint your face upon a pane...

I prefer rain -sometimes I feel sunlight will turn me to stone - perhaps I'm a Troll...

in my dream the shadings of your soul are the dark tincture of rain...

I looked in the window, wanting to stay - it rained, yet I remained...because you were so lovely...

Sunday evenings are heavier than clouds with rain, darker too and often interminable...

skeins of mist like translucent silk, bending and unbending in the headlight tunnels...

The rain thickened; then slacked, then came down again in floods; the night crackled and roared with change and iron cold. Drunk with coziness, the pup wallowed beside me and groaned, and I remember wondering, before I slept, a little more about the relationship of storms to man … If, being animal, we ring like guitar strings to nature's furies, what hope can there be for our ultimate, planned peacefulness?

In the baby's room The city lights are Milky In the curtains… Breath Gentle as rain, Sleep Quiet as snowflakes

I am your stone of necessity calling up spirits from rain puddles—your Magus of words

Your steady rain of words soaked me to the skin

Like restless birds, the breath of coming rain Creeps, lilac-laden, up the village street

In a sort of slow flash, Henrietta had her first open view of Paris - watery sky, wet light, light water, frigid, dark-inky buildings, spans of bridges, trees. This open light gash across Paris faded at each end. It was not exactly raining.

My mom says that when it rains you never feel like you should be anywhere but home.

When he went outside, dazed by the echoes of his dream, the tiger was pacing the roof of the trailer. In the light of dawn he noticed the remarkable fact that the animal had wings harmoniously joined to its body. Wings of a swan or an angel. Two fans of white, silky, well-groomed feathers. It had come from a place where it had been raining because drops of water glistened like pellets of mercury on the edges of its feathers. It was something to see.

The rain washing his house tickled his skin, the memory of a caress on skin that had not felt such a thing in centuries.

Earth rained on the bushed-copper coffin like the heating of my heart in my ears.

In this state, drugged by the rainy dusk, she almost always returned with sensual closeness to seaside childhood; once more she felt her heels in the pudding-softness of the hot tarred esplanade or her bare arm up to the elbow in rain-wet tamarisk. She smelt the shingle and heard it being sucked by the sea.

He can't remeber who he is or where he lives." "Well that's convenient." "Not when it rains.

CAN YOU SEE? The first... Tear once I found out that you left without a goodbye? The first... Drizzle of rain drowning all my hope? The first... And last heart of mine break in two? The first... Moment we met?

Sex on a rainy afternoon is like getting all the gloom and wetness to go away for a while. And afterwards you don't even notice if the rain's still falling.

Singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain.What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again.