Quotes About Rain

My idea of happiness is a rainy evening with a comfortable book to read.

Men can give us a hug or pat us on the back, but only a girl will get another girl off her feet to face the rain.

And now the rains had really come, so heavy and persistent that even the village rain-maker no longer claimed to be able to intervene. He could not stop the rain now, just as he would not attempt to start it in the heart of the dry season, without serious danger to his own health. The personal dynamism required to counter the forces of these extremes of weather would be far too great for the human frame.

Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain.

Aprile è il mese più crudele, genera lillà da terra morta, confondendo memoria e desiderio, risvegliando le radici sopite con la pioggia della primavera.

Red and green and silver flares, all colors, and the rain came down in Technicolor.

Or Kiowa teaching a rain dance to Rat Kiley and Dave Jensen, the three of them whooping and leaping around barefoot while a bunch of villagers looked on with a mixture of fascination and giggly horror. Afterward, Rat said, 'So where's the rain?' and Kiowa said, 'The earth is slow, but the buffalo is patient,' and Rat thought about it and said, 'Yeah, but where's the rain?

Thank you, Rukia... Because of you, the rain has stopped falling.

if i were rain, that join sky and earth that otherwise never touch, could i join two hearths as well?

Ichigo… I hate rain. It rains in this world too. When you're upset, the skies grow cloudy. When you're sad, it rains. I can't stand it. I wonder if you can grasp…the terror of being rained on in this lonely world. To be able to hold back the rain…I'll give you everything I have. Should you place your trust in me…I won't let any rain fall on this world. Believe me… you aren't fighting alone… Ichigo!

I wish i were the rain that binds together the Earth and the sky, whom in all eternity will never mingle.

The Heart Burns Even Though The Rain Falls

E dopo al posto della pioggia, si presentò l'amore, nel mio petto. E mentre ci restava, nel petto, alluvionò il mio cuore

He could hear rain pattering on the thatch, like a million mice line-dancing.

Then she did what she'd wanted to do for ages. She let it pour.

What about Clinton? I asked. He's pretty interesting. Ugh. Dad looked disgusted. That guy. He could stand out in the rain all day and not get wet.

It was autumn, the springtime of death. Rain spattered the rotting leaves, and a wild wind wailed. Death was singing in the shower. Death was happy to be alive. The fetus bailed out without a parachute. It landed in the sideline Astroturf, so upsetting the cheerleaders that for the remained of the afternoon their rahs were more like squeaks.

And it rained a fever. And it rained a silence. And it rained a sacrifice. And it rained a miracle. And it rained sorceries and saturnine eyes of the totem.

And it rained a screaming. And it rained a rawness. And it rained a plasma. And it rained a disorder.

Seattle, the mild green queen: wet and willing, cedar-scented, and crowned with slough grass, her toadstool scepter tilted toward Asia, her face turned ever upward in the rain; the sovereign who washes her hands more persistently than the most fastidious proctologist.

IT WAS AUTUMN, the springtime of death. Rain spattered the rotting leaves, and a wild wind wailed. Death was singing in the shower. Death was happy to be alive.

Outside, the rains had come, the rains that like a blizzard of guppies would pelt the creaky old house until spring. There is no weeping that can compete with the northwest rains.

Four times you drive around the block, the Porsche weaving in and out of the rain-slowed traffic like the essence of a Henry James sentence weaving in and out of prepositional phrases, dependent clauses, and parenthetical asides (periodically hitting the brakes to avoid misplacing a modifier).

Seattle rain smells different from New Orleans rain... New Orleans rain smells of sulfur and hibiscus, trumpet metal, thunder and sweat. Seattle rain, the widespread rain of the Great Northwest, smells of green ice and sumi ink, of geology and silence and minnow breath.