Quotes About Sky

The paint doesn't move the way the light reflects, so what's there to be faithful to? I am faithful to you, darling. I say it to the paint. The bird floats in the unfinished sky with nothing to hold it.

The sun was about to set," he told us in a gravelly voice. He swept his hands in a downward motion, apparently to demonstrate how a sunset worked

Summer was like your house: you know where each thing stood. Now you must go out into your heart as onto a vast plain. Now the immense loneliness begins. The days go numb, the wind sucks the world from your senses like withered leaves. Through the empty branches the sky remains. It is what you have. Be earth now, and evensong. Be the ground lying under that sky. Be modest now, like a thing ripened until it is real, so that he who began it all can feel you when he reaches for you.

We wire the sky for comfort; we thread it through our lungs for a perfect fit. We've arranged this calm, though it is constantly unraveling. Where does it go then, atmosphere suckered up an invisible flue? How can we know where it goes?

Everybody was feeling happy now. The sun was shining brightly out of a soft blue sky and the day was calm. The giant peach, with the sunlight glinting on its side, was like a massive golden ball sailing upon a silver sea.

I is sometimes hearing faraway music coming from the stars in the sky.' A

The mountain was dark blue and all around it the sky was gushing and glistening with light.

When people argue for the existence of a supernatural God who is somewhere else and reaches in on occasion to do a miracle or two, they're skipping over the very world that surrounds us and courses through our veins and lights up the sky right here, right now.

Oremos por un último aterrizaje sobre el globo que nos vio nacer. Fijemos nuestros ojos en el cielo aborregado y las frescas, verdes colinas de la Tierra.

Part of a moon was falling down the west, Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills. Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand Among the harp-like morning-glory strings, Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves, As if she played unheard the tenderness That wrought on him beside her in the night.

Fragmentary Blue Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue? Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)-- Though some savants make earth include the sky; And blue so far above us comes so high, It only gives our wish for blue a whet.

The moon, serene and detached in a cloudless sky, did what she could, though so far off, to help them in their quest; till her hour came and she sank earthwards reluctantly, and left them, and mystery once more held field and river.

All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered. 'Rat!' he found breath to whisper, shaking. 'Are you afraid?' 'Afraid?' murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. 'Afraid! Of HIM? O, never, never! And yet—and yet—O, Mole, I am afraid!' Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.

Dance with me. This night and the rest of our nights, for as long as the divine light shines in the evening skies. For as long as we live beneath it.

I had never wanted kids, because I had never wanted a man to give me a kid. The thought of it, gross; the expectation of it. But if a hole in the sky opened up and two weird children fell to Earth, smashing into the ground like meteroites, then that was something I could care for. If it gleamed like it was radiating danger, I'd hold it. I would.

Each snowflake was a sigh heard by an aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. All the sighs drifted up the sky, gathered into clouds, then broke into tiny pieces that fell silently on the people below. As a reminder of how women suffer.

hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.

I lay on the side of the dirt road next to a rocky trench, looked up to the gray morning sky, thankful for air, thankful for light, thankful to be alive.

Kalau kau tidak terus-terusan melihat ke langit, kau tidak akan bertahan lama.

glanced up and saw a pair of kites, red with long blue tails, soaring in the sky. They danced high above the trees on the west end of the park, over the windmills, floating side by side like a pair of eyes looking down on San Francisco, the city I now call home.

each snowflake was a sigh heaved by an aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. That all the sighs drifted up the sky, gathered into clouds, then broke into tiny pieces that fell silently on the people below.

Campionatul de vân?toare de zmeie era un vechi obicei de iarn? în Afganistan. Începea dimineaÈ›a devreme È™i nu se termina pân? când pe cer nu mai r?mânea, plutind, decât zmeul câÈ™tig?tor.

În curând începu t?ierea È™i primul zmeu înfrânt, sc?pat de sub control, se pr?buÈ™i într-un vârtej. C?deau din cer ca stelele c?z?toare, cu cozile lor lungi, scânteietoare, pres?rând cartierele de dedesubt cu daruri pentru competitorii r?maÈ™i, fiindc? erau ele însele mult-râvnitele trofee.

Pân? am ajuns eu în pia??, soarele aproape coborâse în spatele dealurilor, iar amurgul picta cerul în purpuriu È™i roz.