Quotes About Rain

The sailors say the rain misses the cloud even as it falls through light or dark into the sea. I miss her like that as I fall through my life, through time, the chaos of our time. I dream she is alive even now, but there is nothing to give weight or value to that, it is only me, and what I want to be true. It is only longing. We can want things so much sometimes. It is the way we are.

He found himself taking note of the trappings of this, the king's most private room. [...] the etched windows over the garden, the gilt-edged mirror on the opposite wall, the intricately woven carpets . . . In a way, Mazur ben Avren thought, all these delicate things were bulwarks, the innermost defenses of civilized man against the rain and dark, and ignorance.

O, you poor fellow! Out there in the rain all that time! I forgot that.

She does not answer. In the silence the rain is heard falling.]

Rain has fallen all the day O come among the laden trees. The leaves lie thick upon the way Of memories. Staying a little by the way Of memories shall we depart. Come, my beloved, where I may Speak to your heart.

The evening sky was streaked with purple, the color of torn plums, and a light rain had started to fall when I came to the end of the blacktop road that cut through twenty miles of thick, almost impenetrable scrub oak and pine and stopped at the front gate of Angola penitentiary.

But the rain gods went away. They ain't coming back, either." "How do you know that?" "They got no reason to. We don't believe in them no more.

The juke and barbecue joints were loud, the doors wide open, the elevated sidewalks inset with tethering rings and littered with paper cups and beer cans, rust-stained where the rain spouts bled across the concrete. ~ James Lee Burke

The breeze smelled of rain falling from clouds that had drawn water out of the Gulf and fish eggs out of the wetlands; it smelled of newly mowed grass and sprinklers striking warm concrete and charcoal starter flaring on a grill; it smelled of chrysanthemums blooming in gardens dark with shadow, telling us that the season was not yet done, that life was still a party and should not be surrendered prematurely to the coming of night.

Son, you looks like a character witness for a nightmare. You ugly enough to have your face capped." "We can't all be pretty," he grumbled. "Well, you ain't no gemstone, son. You got a face for swim trunk ads." "I'm seventy-one, Sister Paul. I'm a spring chicken compared to you. I don't see no mens doing backflips at the door over you. At least I ain't got enough wrinkles in my face to hold ten days of rain.

Bottle cork, bottle cork There's naught within but lees. The glowing eyes of Jack O'Lantern Dance on evening's breeze; Goblin fires light the wood And flicker through the trees. The clouds, they say, are whipping cream, The oceans seas of teas, The rain a fall of diamonds, The moon a ball of cheese.

When it rains cats, it pours kittens too

after a torrential rain. Acadia and her

Everyone suffers. Rain falls on the just and the unjust alike. It falls on both the rich and the poor too. Leftist materialists imagine suffering to be a factor of economic circumstance.

In little pockets of conversation, old men were telling stories of ancient floods. Women were talking of about how much rain there'd been in other towns -- Paragould, Lepanto, and Manila.

A rainbow earns its colors in the storm.

Rain is just God weeping for Earth's troubles.

the woman is rain, and when she falls, she is a monsoon.to love her is to drown.

The size of your storm determines the size of your rainbow.

A cantor, when he starts singing, it's like rain - once it starts, it's hard to stop.

I spent much of my childhood in northern Quebec, and often there was no radio, no television - there wasn't a lot to entertain us. When it rained, I stayed inside reading, writing, drawing.

It's kind've a cliche but I like when it's raining. I like the feeling of staying in and not being told I should be outside.

Ah, no; the years, the years;Down their chiseled names the raindrop plows.

Tell me how many beads there are In a silver chain Of evening rain, Unravelled from the tumbling main...