Quotes About Sky

The more beautiful the sky, the more hopeless the neighborhood.

The night sky in Egypt is a swirling mass of stars so bright and numerous the sky seems to tremble with the ice-blue weight of them.

I like to go outside at night by myself and look at the sky and just appreciate it. I'm not that big of a weirdo, but - occasionally.

Late afternoon on the West Coast ends with the sky doing all its brilliant stuff.

The air is the only place free from prejudice.

What kind of man was this, I wondered, who is so beloved, so missed, that the mere mention of his death would make them cry forty-two years after he was preached into the sky?

The Haitians, who knew something about suffering and survival, had a beautiful phrase... The Translation is not perfect, but the nut of it was: 'The season of pain is never over until the sky begins to cry.

We don't take this Nazi down, soon, a giant butthole's gonna open in the sky an' dump bad times on everyone." -Wolverine

Thankfully the rain had softened to a light drizzle, but the murky gray of the sky painted a dreary mausoleum atmosphere.

Rays of evening sunshine glinted across the wood rails of the porch, hints of a thunderstorm flickering along the fog over the ridges. A sudden wind whipped through the trees, sending dried leaves to the ground. The sky was at war, Mother Nature caught between the chill of the dead and the wicked heat of the devil as he lingered in the foothills

Das ghar to chhut chuke hain kahan tak karoon khasam Kis ja bithaye dekhiye ab asman mujhe.

The evening stretches out against the sky, I thought. Like a patient etherized upon a table. I grinned to myself. Live fast, die young, and have a literate corpse.

Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding,Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding,Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?

The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard,The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky,Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard.

In the evolution of species, protective armor has almost always spelled disaster. Although there are a few exceptions, the shell most often becomes a dead end for the animal encased in it; it slows the creature down, making it hard to forage for food and making it a target for fast-moving predators. Animals that take to the sea or sky, and that move swiftly and unpredictably, are infinitely more powerful and secure.

The Stars in the Sky. There can be only one sun at a time. Never obscure the sunlight, or rival the sun's brilliance; rather, fade into the sky and find ways to heighten the master star's intensity.

This is a lesson that the stars in the sky teach us—they may be related to the sun, and just as brilliant, but they never appear in her company. (Baltasar Gracián, 1601-1658)

You can at least say this for the blackout, he thought, it has given us back the stars.

Soon the sky began to turn a starlit lavender. Many looked up and admired it, for it was often said that when you are no longer moved by the last stages of dusk in the Mexican desert, it is time to shake the hand of your Maker.

sky, and fleecy white clouds billowed across it.

So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky. —John Dryden

It was a gracious evening, full of delectable lights and shadows. In the west was a sky of mackerel clouds-crimson and amber-tinted, with long strips of apple-green sky between. Beyond was the glimmering radiance of a sunset sea, and the ceaseless voice of many waters came up from the tawny shore.

Silence and twilight fell over the garden. Far away the sea was lapping gently and monotonously on the bar. The wind of evening in the poplars sounded like some sad, weird old rune-some broken dream of old memories. A slender, shapely young aspen rose up before them against the fine maize and emerald and paling rose of the western sky, which brought out every leaf and twig in dark, tremulous, elfin loveliness.

The eastern sky above the firs was flushed faintly pink from the reflection of the west, and Anne was wondering dreamily if the spirit of color looked like that…