Quotes About Lake

Siberia is also a rich source of iron, tin, gold and other metals, and possesses the world's deepest lake, Baikal.

My gut saved me several times in the last few minutes. Now it's telling me something else. This body wasn't the only one in the lake.

Ai confundat cerul cu stelele reflectate noaptea pe suprafata unui lac

You have made a mistake. You mistook the stars reflected in the surface of the lake at night for the heavens.

O czwartej nad ranem noc powoli unosi czarny ty?ek, jakby ob?arta wstawa?a od sto?u i sz?a spa?. Powietrze jest jak zimny atrament, sp?ywa asfaltowymi drogami, rozlewa si? i krzepnie w czarne jeziora.

Every time the mainstream media talk about progressive rock, they wheel out a clip of Rick Wakeman in a cape. For me, it's one of the most ambitious forms of music. The problem is that when it doesn't work, you end up with Emerson, Lake and Palmer doing symphonies with 60-piece orchestras and revolving pianos, which I think is ridiculous as well.

You know, I know a lot of lifeguards. Both my parents were lifeguards at a lake in El Paso, Texas. I was a lifeguard in a swimming pool in Portland, Ore. And I have known and met and befriended a number of oceangoing lifeguards in California where I live.

My cottage is on Lake Huron and it's always nice to have the chance to get away and hear the waves crashing while reading a good book.

I am an avid lover of taking photographs of the night sky. Whenever I can, I get myself off to Canada or to Scotland and set up around the lake and spend a few hours in the middle of the night with a flask of coffee, a little glass of whiskey and some snacks.

I went to the Lake District to see what kind of a country it could be that would produce a Wordsworth.

plan to take Jill fishing on the lake you loved, Lake

FIRST DIP, THIRD NIP We went out on the lake and, after his first dip in the water, I noticed the mole on his chest had reacted to the cold. Triple nipple is a deal breaker. —Jillian

There was something very odd about the carpet this morning… More hedgehogs? Many more hedgehogs? Positively a lake of hedgehogs?

Another day, in the rain, we're waiting for the boat at the lake; from happiness, this time, the same outburst of annihilation sweeps through me. This is how it happens sometimes, misery or joy engulfs me, without any particular tumult ensuing: nor any pathos: I am dissolved, not dismembered; I fall, I flow, I melt. Such thoughts grazed, touched, tested (the way you test the water with your foot)-can recur. Nothing solemn about them. This is exactly what gentleness is.

Occasionally, on windy days Hervé Joncour would go down to the lake and spend hours in contemplation of it because he seemed to descry, sketched out on the water, the inexplicable sight of his life as it had been, in all its lightness.

The moon, which would be full within the week, pulsed huge and silver in a deep black sky. The lake, black and secret and long, stretched out as far as I could see, joining with the sky in a seamless circle of darkness.

Darkwater, the faded rose many-chimneyed house, the lawns, the trees heavy with summer, the strutting peacocks, the distant flicker of the lake.

I never saw daffodils so beautiful they grew among the mossy stones about & about them, some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness & the rest tossed & reeled & danced & seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the Lake, they looked so gay ever glancing ever changing...

our favorite lake in New Hampshire, funnily enough right where Adam and Nan both grew up. Small world.

spend most of my time repairing firearms in a perfectly legal shop the club runs. I design and install custom security systems on the side, 'cause I get off on that shit. Lotta rich fuckers with summer homes on the lake. All of 'em need security and I'm more'n happy to take their money.

That night, a cold breeze swept into Bridgewater. The leaves went fluttering like butterflies, and Judge Abbott began to have what he later called "the orchard dreams." Every night far into the following year, he dreamed of Jodee McGowen reclining nude by the Smoaky Lake, like she was Eve lying in a cluster of reeds in the oldest garden in the world.

Lake Mendota was a rippled silver, like a vast piece of silk spread out but had not yet been smoothed.

Leone, P., M. Poshka, and V. E. Norton Jr. Around Chautauqua Lake: 50 Years of Photographs 1875–1925. Westfield, NY: Chautauqua Region Press, 1997.

On the centre of the lake, cooled by the piercing current of the Rhône, lay the true centre of the Western World. Upon it floated swans like boats and boats like swans, both lost in the nothingness of the heartless beauty.