Quotes About Clouds

Power lived everywhere, beneath cactus thorns, secreted in sparkles of dew, and hidden in the flecks of moonlight that silvered the sage. By calling upon that Power, Singers could pull clouds together and awaken the soaring

The man on the porch seemed to have brought his own clouds.

Arnold sat on his porch, watching the sun die a phoenix death, bruising the clouds as it struggled to stay afloat in the evening sky.

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains; They crown'd him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow.

Cumulus clouds became incendiary as the setting sun lit them. The quiet was extraordinary, the only sound the burble of a truck leaving Mammoth Village and descending the switchbacks toward Gardiner.

That morning, for all I sat behind the stinking coffin of a murdered man, I found myself lulled along by the monks' beautiful, polyphonic chant. The psalms, and the Latin reading from Job, struck a chord. 'And thou sayest, how doth God know? Can he judge through the dark cloud? Thick clouds are a covering to him, that he seest not; and he walketh in the circuit of heaven.' Thick clouds indeed, I thought. I am still in a fog here.

The humble Cumulus humilis - never hurt a soul.

A cloudspotter should hold up three fingers with an extended arm. If the individual elements of the layer are wider than all three fingers, the cloud is probably of the lower Stratocumulus genus. If they are smaller than the width of one finger, then it is more likely to be a high layer of cloudlets, called a Cirrocumulus. It is most likely to be an Altocumulus layer when the size of the cloudlets is somewhere between the two – smaller than three fingers and larger than one.

The rain falls endlessly, and even on the hottest of summer days, blooming white cumulus clouds float above, their shadows reminding you that summer's heat is fleeting, and the rain's never far off

Strider's bedroom "The only thing hanging on the wall that wasn't a weapon was the portrait just over the bed. No. Not true, he thought then. The portrait was a weapon, too. Of seduction. In it Strider was utterly naked and whisking through the cloads like an avenging angel. He was holding a teddy bear in one hand and a stream of pink ribbons in the other. Anya had given him the nearly life-size monstrasity as a joke. But the joke was on her. He loved the thing.

The risen Christ! Once more faith is upon us, a jubilant brief keening with respite: Obedience, bitter joy, the elements, clouds, winds, louvres where the bell makes its wild mouths: Holy Rus – into the rain's horizons, peacock-dyed tail feathers of storm, so it goes on.

Stir the fire till it lowe How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon From the slow opening curtains of the clouds Walking in beauty to her midnight throne!

How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon From the slow opening curtains of the clouds Walking in beauty to her midnight throne!

Genius cannot simply float in the clouds, it must also operate down on earth.

It was too late to go to Gaze now, everyone would be in bed. It was a comforting thought. Whatever was happening it was not happening now. There was nothing he could do now. Sleep was overwhelming him again, great clouds and folds of sleep like a warm fog.

Sundown, and the bellies of the clouds flush pink. Renton reflecting that no matter how early you rise or how late you turn in, you never see that point where light begins or the first bruise of darkness bleeds in under its fragile skin; the beauty, and the scary, unfathomable wisdom of transition.

The day seemed oddly normal. The sun peacefully sailed through the white clouds, birds sang from treetops, the trees danced to the quiet wind.

From space, the earth appears predominantly blue; the clouds are brilliant white. Surprisingly, you don't see much green, although Ireland looks green, and so do Scandinavia and New Zealand. The deserts are brick red and really stand out.

My own zigzag path through life led me back to Santa Cruz in the early Eighties, and I have revisited regularly since. The place hasn't changed: head in the clouds, backside on the hills and feet in the ocean - one of the most decent and beautiful places on earth.

Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of water.

...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...

...my dreams are tangled in images of stars and clouds and firelight - we go camping at night - it's my lucid dream of being with you...

I always assumed everybody shared my love for overcast skies. It came as a shock to find out that some people prefer sunshine.

Meadow's Waltz...the meadow had becomeher sanctuary of spiritoffering an escape from a painno child should ever endureforeboding clouds began...