Quotes About Moon

One day I would love to do rock a gig on the moon - how rad would that be? Isn't Richard Branson flying planes to outer space? Mötley Crüe could be the first band to play on the moon.

Tape the sound of the moon fading at dawn. Give it to your mother to listen to when she's in sorrow.

We love the night and its quiet; and there is no night that we love so well as that on which the moon is coffined in clouds.

Moon, moon, when you leave me alone all the darkness is an utter blackness, a pit of fear, a stench, hands unreasonable never to touch. But I love you. Do you love me. What to say when you see me.

I love old moons. There is something humanized about them; they are dulled a little, and rich in color. One can stare all night at an old moon.

The moon, like a gardenia in the night's button-hole—but no! why should a writer never be able to mention the moon without likening her to something else—usually something to which she bears not the faintest resemblance?... The moon, looking like nothing whatsoever but herself, was engaged in her old and futile endeavour to mark the hours correctly on the sun-dial at the centre of the lawn.

Outside, the crescent moon was high in the sky, shining in its sliver glory.

The moon slipped under a blanket of clouds

Letting the moon's silver light baptize them as the other half of her soul came sliding home. At last.

Perdido por perdido, bien jodido, el polvo más costoso de mi vida, se dijo. Se espantó de su propio chiste. Soy un monstruo, súbitamente un monstruo. La culpa había sido de la luna. Demasiado caliente, la luna del Chaco. Sobre todo, después de ocho años de ausencia. Perdido por perdido. Estaba jugado.

The moon slid inexorably into its zenith, the shadows shrivelling to the feet of all that cast them, and as Rantel approached the hollow at the hem of the Twisted Woods he was treading in a pool of his own midnight.

The sun sank with a sob and darkness waded in from all horizons so that the sky contracted and there was no more light left in the world, when, at this very moment of annihilation, the moon, as though she had been waiting for her cue, sailed up the night.

His habitual melancholy was changing day by day into something more sinister. There were moments when he would desecrate the crumbling and mournful mask of his face with a smile more horrible than the darkest lineaments of pain. Across the stoniness of his eyes a strange light would pass for a moment, as though the moon were flaring on the gristle, and his lips would open and the gash of his mouth would widen in a dead, climbing curve

she stepped outwards into the dim atmosphere, and falling, was most fabulously lit by the moon and the sun.

A statement made from the heart has an aroma, it has lights, it has earth and sun and moon. It is colorful and it grasps the attention of those around you, like the sunset.

The sun stood still and the moon stopped, until the nation took vengeance on its enemies. Joshua 10:13

The only colors I could see were the vibrant primary hues of the pinball machine, where a cartoon spacewoman with big conical breasts straddled the earth in a formfitting blue space suit and thigh-high yellow boots. Behind her, a big red dildo-shaped spaceship was just blasting off for the moon.

As long as people have been on this earth, the moon has been a mystery to us. Think about it. She is strong enough to pull the oceans, and when she dies away, she always comes back again. My mama used to tell me Our Lady lived on the moon and that I should dance when her face was bright and hibernate when it was dark.

When I looked up through the web of trees, the night fell over me, and for a moment I lost my boundaries, feeling like the sky was my own skin and the moon was my heart beating up there in the dark.

The moon was a perfect circle, so full of light that all the edges of things had an amber cast. The cicadas rose up, and I ran with bare feet across the grass.

The moon was round and white, sitting small at the top of the sky. It seemed the right size to sit in the bowl on the bullet mold. That was what I wished. I wished for the moon instead of lead.

todays the first anniversary of the asteroid hitting the moon. A year ago i was sixteen years old, a sophomore in high school.

I never really thought about how when I look at the moon it's the same moon Shakespeare and Marie Antoinette and George Washington and Cleopatra looked at. Not to mention all those zillions of people I've never heard of. All those Homo sapiens and Neanderthals looked at the very same moon as me. It waxed and waned in their sky, too.

Their eyes were usually open, and they stared up at the moon that had killed them.