Quotes About Moon

who knows if the moon's a balloon,coming out of a keen city in the sky--filled with pretty people? ( and if you and I should get into it,if they should take me and take you into their balloon, why then we'd go up higher with all the pretty people than houses and steeples and clouds: go sailing away and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,where always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves

the mind is its own beautiful prisoner. Mind looked long at the sticky moon opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one afternoon. The last thing he saw was you naked amid unnaked things...

the moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy

i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows

notice the convulsed orange inch of moon perching on this silver minute of evening

a moon swims out of a cloud a clock strikes midnight a finger pulls a trigger a bird flies into a mirror)

i will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness in the sleeping curves of my body Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery with chasteness of sea-girls Will i complete the mystery of my flesh I will rise After a thousand years lipping flowers And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

the moon is like a floating silver hell a song of adolescent ivory.

god's terrible face,brighter than a spoon, collects the image of one fatal word; so that my life(which liked the sun and moon) resembles something that has not occurred

ve aÄŸaçlar direnir: aÄŸaçlar direnir. AÄŸaçlar, birden bekleye durur ay?n yüzüne kar??.

here's to one undiscoverable guess of whose mad skill each world of blood is made (whose fatal songs are moving in the moon

People may refer the sea as both feminine and masculine but I like to refer it as feminine because the moon effects the sea in the same way it does a women

The finger pointing to the moon is not the moon.

Just as the moon has no light of its own, but can only reflect the light of the sun, so are past and future only pale reflections of the light, power, and reality of the eternal present.

Cuando llegamos a la Luna, ese fue el momento en que Dios debió haber venido y decir hola. Porque si inventas algunas criaturas, los pones en azul y llegan al gris, es el jodido momento de aparecer y decir bien hecho.

According to the most modern idea, a real myth has nothing to do with religion. It is an explanation of something in nature; how, for instance, any and everything in the universe came into existence: men, animals, this or that tree or flower, the sun, the moon, the stars, storms, eruptions, earthquakes, all that is and all that happens. Thunder and lightning are caused when Zeus hurls his thunderbolt.

Glowing. The moon through a doorway. Breath hard in my throat. Heart full to burst. The moon through a doorway. And its light… Hope.

Said the Sun to the Moon-'When you are but a lonely white crone, And I, a dead King in my golden armour somewhere in a dark wood, Remember only this of our hopeless love That never till Time is done Will the fire of the heart and the fire of the mind be one

Overhead hung a summer sky furrowed with the rush of rockets; and from the east a late moon, pushing up beyond the lofty bend of the coast, sent across the bay a shaft of brightness which paled to ashes in the red glitter of the illuminated boats.

Another pioneer of the scientific revolution, Johannes Kepler, was the first to couch an earnest scientific argument – a representation of the Copernican theory of the solar system – as a visionary fantasy. His Somnium (A Dream, 1634) also includes an ingenious attempt to imagine how life on the moon might have adapted to the long cycle of day and night.

It was twilight and the stars were quite evident in the sky. The moon, still low, was behind Skiffington and only Barnum could see it.

En un muro blanco dibujas las alegorías del reposo, y es siempre una reina loca que yace bajo la luna sobre la triste hierba del viejo jardín.

Demasiado tarde esta fiesta lujosa en honor de la muchacha polvorienta comida por el deseo. Demasiado tarde esta exhibición de piedad humana con sus límites y terminaciones. ¿Cuánto tiempo puede seguir llorando? ¿Cuánto han de darme sus ojos en esta noche impecable con estrellas que son estrellas y una luna real que no oscila?

The squeak of oarlocks comes over the lake water A woman's shriek assaults the ear While above, in the sky, inured to everything, The moon looks on with a mindless leer ("The Unknown Lady")