Quotes About Sky

I love the sea's sounds and the way it reflects the sky. The colours that shimmer across its surface are unbelievable. This, combined with the colour of the water over white sand, surprises me every time.

At first, the tornado is nearly invisible. Against the sky, it's white on white.

A woman is more than the sum of her parts. So I had an opportunity to present some work at the White House. I chose not just to talk about the sky, the planet, love or heartache. I wanted to actually be there, to place a mark on that moment.

The stars are scattered all over the sky like shimmering tears, there must be great pain in the eye from which they trickled.

I thought I was a pretty good physical specimen. But there was a teenager from Brooklyn, who basically wiped the floor with me on the street. He gave me a punch that I didn't even feel. All I knew I was looking up at the sky. I tried to fight him, and I got a number of injuries after that.

It is a golden age of television, with Amazon, Sky, and Netflix. They give opportunities to people to develop their own projects together. So much stuff has to be made. There has to be more opportunity.

Off we go into the wild blue yonder,Climbing high into the sun.

The sun burned like an open sore in a sky the colour of bleached bone.

approaching—the whir and chopping sound of a helicopter coming at full speed. He looked up at the night sky, and in an instant his trained eyes distinguished the moving white lights amid the stationary stars.

Mingle my dust with the burning brand, Scatter it free to the sky Fling it wide on the ocean's sand, From peaks where the vultures fly.

The sun sank like a dull-glowing copper ball into a lake of fire. The blue of the sea merged with the blue of the sky, and both turned to soft dark velvet, clustered with stars and the mirrors of stars.

I have not died as men may die, nor sinned as men have sinned, But I have reached a misty sky upon a granite wind.

A song she heard Of cold that gathers Like winter's tongue Among the shadows It rose like blackness In the sky That on volcano's Vomit rise A Stone of ruin From burn to chill Like black moonrise Her voice fell still...

I can hear your whisper and distant mutter. I can smell your damp on the breeze and in the sky I see the halo of your violence. Storm I know you are coming.

A misty radiance, through which stars were struggling to twinkle, filled the night sky beyond the tiny window beside him.

Strike set out for his office beneath a sky of dirty silver,

At last they saw what Strike had felt the need to see: a wide expanse of flat ocean, the color of chalcedony, beneath a periwinkle sky.

She ran to the window to catch every sunset, each one a miracle, different every day, entrancing long after darkness had sucked the last ounce of color out of the indigo sky.

Sometimes from this hillside just after sunset The rim of the sky takes on a tinge Of the palest green, like the flesh of a cucumber When you peel it carefully.

What is older than desire? the bare tree asked. Sorrow, said the sky. Sorrow is a river older than desire. — Robert Hass, from "February: Question" in "February Notebooks: The Rains," Summer Snow: New Poems (Ecco, 2020)

The sky was yellow and the sun was blue...

The sky above the island was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel—which is to say it was a bright, cheery blue.

over Japan, the

I had forgotten that, while Thor hurls his Hammer from storm-clouds, Odin prefers his strike to come out of a calm sky.