Quotes About Sky

I'm charming and handsome. They take my pen. I buy the poem from the garden of bees for one euro. A touch on the arm. A mystery word. The sky has two faces. For reasons unaccountable my hand trembles. In Roman times if they were horrified of bees they kept it secret

And there I was with the stars hanging above my house like live wires and the night sky the color of stockings. I stuck out my tongue to taste the sky but could not taste. I inhaled deeply but could not smell. I used to look to the sky for comfort and now there was nothing, not even a seam, and I looked down and saw that it did not even reach the ground. And my only company was the satellites counting their sleep

When the revolutionaries of the early modern world peered through their telescopes into the night sky, the first thing they saw was injustice on earth.

It's said that the Buddha's enlightenment is great than that of a traveler setting out, in the same proportion as the heavens are bigger than what can be seen of them through the eye of a needle. But in both cases, what you see is the sky.

He finally understood...the thing that the people during the Paleolitic Age, freaking 20,000 to 8,000 B.C., were after when they came up with mythologies to do with flight—a desire for the magic of the sky, for something bigger than their feet treading the earth.

We're all under the same sky and walk the same earth; we're alive together during the same moment.

The mists hung on the craggy hills and the sky was a rainbow of crystalline colors.

smoke, spattered with grey-black debris, coming faster and thicker, eager to escape the brick maw and billow across the unbroken sky. 'Go on...go!' Tania said, exhilarated, raising her arms above her, scattering the sparrows from the trees, who fluttered through the grey snow and beyond it, singing their journey as they flew.

Seas was the one who'd urged her to tattoo the scars she'd cut with the razor blade. the serpent- sign of transformation and healing. The quote, from Rita Dove's poem "Dawn Revisited." About second chances. The whole sky is yours to write on, blown open

James had eyes of summer-sky blue, ringed with deep navy. The contrast could be startling. The dark fringe of his lashes swept down as his eyes narrowed. He licked his lips.

To fly up to the sky and watch the earth is beautiful; to fly down to the earth and watch the sky is even more beautiful!

A beautiful poem is like a beautiful sky and a beautiful sky is like a beautiful poem!

Looking for a saviour in the sky? Be serious! Know you still not that there ain't any saviour but science! Get rid of your cultural craps and your religious illusions! Be realist! In this universe, only the realists have the chance to save themselves!

No lake is beautiful without the sky, without the mist or without the trees and the autumn leaves! No beauty is beautiful in itself!

Your mind is your spirit; do not seek any other hidden soul inside you! All is in the brain! The depiction of a spirit rising to the sky is no more real than a medieval Scandinavian fairytales!

One voice whispered Beloved . She spread her colors on the starshine to embrace this land he had given her, and there were no shadows to darken the Fire soaring across the sand. Only light, only joy. No one heard Elisel scream. Only the dragons saw her rise into the night sky like an arrow, mute after that one keening wail. It was two days before she returned to Skybowl. Long before that, they found Sioned.

The faery was beautiful- stunning - the way a storm is when you wake up and see lightning streak across the sky. And probably just as dangerous.

Though this gives a fleeting impression of them all being connected by wireless to the great mother ship of French aristocracy in the sky, the "antennae" are in fact meant to keep the park birds from landing and covering their regal heads in unsightly droppings.

Ser menino é estar cheio de céu por cima.

Ave Seria um pássaro No sono das asas ondulava toda a solidão do céu Terrestre, só a fugitiva sombra Paisagem nenhuma lhe dava abrigo Pousado, o corpo de si mesmo se exilava Nos ensinava a deslumbrância da viagem a nós que só na morte olharemos os céus de frente

Ainda acreditou ser um pássaro que lançava ser seu voo da varanda para o distante chão. Nesse momento ele aprendia que o céu está padecendo de cataratas, repentinas névoas que impedem Deus de nos espreitar.

A gente não vai para o céu. É o oposto: o céu é que nos entra, pulmões adentro. A pessoa morre e é engasgada em nuvem.

He who seeks eternity should look at the sky, he who seeks the moment, should look at the cloud.

The sky all at once is overhead dim and grey, puzzle of blocks sprawl, their own horizon; the city looks like a cemetery full of weak daylight, cool and a little wrong, making Ella feel a little put upon, like leap-year day—nothing in itself, but a nudge jostling every other day.