Quotes About Clouds

Science is the search for neat predictable curves, compact ways of summarizing the data. But there is danger that curves we see are illusory, like pictures of animals in the clouds. As we draw our self-propelling arcs, some points will inevitably lie outside the line—those that must be dismissed as random error or noise. So we are left with a gnawing dissatisfaction: Are we missing something?

The moon, plump as a merchant's wife, swam behind clouds, wearying of the chase.

The cloudy weather melts at length into beauty, and the brightest smiles of the heart are born of its tears.

I try to find the beauty in things. On dark days, I sit in my armchair looking at clouds and I am awed at how rain is made.

The clouds was light but queerly yellow on their edges as they moved across the ageless constellations.

Mirar el cielo, ahí pasan las nubes, y pensar: "No, nunca voy a suicidarme"

The evening sky was awash with peach, apricot, cream: tender little ice-cream clouds in a wide orange sky.

Gradually, as Lyra watched, she found her mood lifting. She'd hardly been aware of feeling anxious, but that was because anxiety was everywhere, built into the very molecules of the world, or so it had seemed. But now it was disappearing, like heavy gray clouds thinning and dispersing and finding their great banks of vapor drifting into wisps that wafted away into invisibility, leaving the sky clear and open.

He is much stronger than I think I am. He is mischievous, outgoing, ready to soar through the clouds, while I often feel like the cloud itself.

She still dotted her i's with full circles and felt genuinely thankful for every sunny day. I believed more in dark clouds, in sharp dots, in needing proof in order to feel trust.

But she is not looking down, but looking up maybe, some kind of fortune teller who can read futures in passing dark clouds.

The varicolored cloud dust that the sun has stirred up in the sky was settling by slow degrees.

And then she saw it. Like one of the angels of the Panegyrist Creation Song, it fell from the clouds, a thing all black and silver. And dreadfully familiar. Courtney Hall watched it fall from the clouds and ram itself through the window of level 33/Red/16 Kilimanjaro West.

Clouds, too, can give light if only the sun shines on them.

Deep blackness waits outside; a veiled inferno it attempts to hide. We see no more than dark clouds growing, but set inside, a fire is glowing.

All along the crystal cove the woven masks pace and pause from doorstep to doorstep. Shadows dance on the crest of the moon, as clouds, like dark bats, shift through the skies. The children in garments of glib disarray; the parents wear masks that won't fade away. Olive and amber, sea and sky; salt and sand go winding by. One can sense the cries of hovering birds, the laughter of children, and frost-bitten air.

There were clouds at the mountains, and the snow pack reflected the sour-lemon sun into one of the most beautiful and perverse sunsets I had ever seen. The clouds were dappled like the hindquarters of an Appaloosa colt, and the beauty kicked just as hard.

I looked at the sky with its patchwork of sun and storm clouds—the devil must be beating his wife indeed. I bet I was the only one who used that phrase anymore. I

Not infrequently in the wide skies over Yuma and other parts of the arid Southwest, residents watch sheets of rain begin to unfurl from auspicious purple storm clouds, backlit by the sun. But the rain stops halfway, hanging mid-horizon like a magician's trick. Known as rain streamers or by their scientific name VIRGA, the half-sheets evaporate into the dry air before the rain can reach the ground.

Where the veil broke, you could see silvery clouds on which tall angels might stand. Not cute little Christmas angels, but high, stern angels in white robes, whose faces were sad and serious from being near God all day and hearing His decisions about the world.

Nell wagged her feathery tail. It was good when the goddess descended from the clouds and spoke to you; it gave you a cozy safe feeling in your inside.

Love is such a magic thing. It can make you feel like you're floating in the clouds without a trouble in the world.

i hold um gentle in my hands i no can even see my fingers i see the clouds, the sky moving i see my eyes.

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before; The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need Of aid from them—She was the Universe.