Quotes About Stars

Well, I want to do The Music Man. I think it's an amazing opportunity, but I think that they are probably looking at major movie stars right now, and I don't blame them.

Remember this: Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny.

Shall we the shipwrecked drown and dream A further voyage to farther stars

Leurs yeux étoiles bestiales Eclairent ma compassion Qu'importe ma sagesse égale Celle des constellations Car c'est moi seul nuit qui t'étoile

Je t'aime tes mains et mes souvenirs Font sonner à toute heure une heureuse fanfare Des soleils tour à tour se prennent à hennir Nous sommes les bat-flanc sur qui ruent les étoiles

Je buvais à pleins verres les étoiles" (Mes amis m'ont enfin avoué leur mépris)

Guardiola told me that if there is a hint of disharmony within the group he removes it, as he did with Eto'o and Ibrahimovi?, who wanted to be stars in a team where no one feels a star.

Rijkaard was aware of the stars' behaviour, but indulged them, ever the optimist that the players were mature and responsible enough to know when to draw the line. It was a mistake. And, by the middle of the 2006–07 season that started poorly in Monaco, it was a trend far too late to reverse as Barcelona's results and their performances reflected the breakdown in discipline.

If you look closely, there is no book more visual than Three Trapped Tigers, in that it is filled with blank pages, dark pages, it has stars made of words, the famous magical cube made of numbers, and there is even a page which is a mirror.

We're all made of stardust Mr. Strickland. Oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, and calcium. If some of us get our way and our Countries fire off their warheads, then we shall return to stardust. All of us. And what color will our stars be then? That is the question. A question you might ask yourself.

A pettos speckled with gold ajiggle with a fremitus from the heart touches me like Athena's hoolet mewing in uncertain dark. So much is nature, whereon we build our particulars fastidious and critical. Your every arrow O Eros has hit me , as the song goes. O girls, girls. This arrow is Timo's curls, this is Heliodora's shoes, this the smell of quinces that blows from Demo's door, flowers plaited into Dorothea's hair and ox-eyed Antikleia's smile that is music from the islands, summer's stars.

A song remembers a home, another conjures fear that home will fall to those who would destroy it. A poet places wine glasses on a fountain's rim under stars. An artist sets his lost wife on a dome . . . amid stars. A dancer lets the music be what she is, until it stops. Someone made the music, someone plays it while she dances.

He sometimes imagined them all, men and women, children, everyone in the world, sailing down the Sky River in the hugeness of the dark, surrounded by all the stars. Some tried to steer the ship. He had tried. But only the gods could do that, in the end.

In summer darkness, stars in her south-facing window, she makes - or accepts - a decision in her heart. There is fear again with it, and sorrow, but also a kind of easing of disquiet and distress, which is what acceptance is said to bring, is it not?

Praise makes me humble, but when I am abused, I know that I have touched the stars.

Watch the sunrise at least once a year, put a lot of marshmallows in your hot chocolate, lie on your back and look at the stars, never buy a coffee table you can't put your feet on, never pass up a chance to jump on a trampoline, don't overlook life's small joys while searching for the big ones.

But here, at Shangri–La, all was in deep calm. In a moonless sky the stars were lit to the full, and a pale blue sheen lay upon the dome of Karakal

God made a wonderful mother, A Mother who never grows old. He made her smile of sunshine. And he molded he heart of pure of pure gold. In her eyes he placed bright shinning stars. In her cheeks fair roses you see. God made a wonderful mother. And he gave that wonderful mother to me.

Walnut Trees of Altenburg: The greatest mystery is not that we have been flung at random between the profusion of the earth and the galaxy of the stars, but that in this prison we can fashion images of ourselves sufficiently powerful to deny our nothingness.2

Billions of hard, bright stars shone with relentless glitter across the tropic night sky.

The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.

Moments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory.

Like the tender fires of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke upon and illuminated his memory.

A wave of yet more tender joy escaped from his heart, and went coursing in warm flood along his arteries. Like the tender fires of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of, or would ever know of, broke upon and illumined his memory..