Quotes About Sky

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragonfly Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky.

The sky was overladen with stars. If you looked closely there were stars in the grass as well--dew turned to ice on the tips of grass blades.

Mjesec, sad velik na nebu, nije ih ni primijetio. Možda nije ni mogao. Možda njegovo lice i nije na strani koju smo oduvijek tako zvali. Kad promislite bolje, ne biste li i vi svoj pogled radije okrenuli zvijezdama?

I suppose cats have sayings like... "A dead mouse...has no entertainment value." How's that? Doesn't exactly trip off the tongue, does it? Okay, how about..."Red sky at night, time for a nap...red sky in the morning... time for a nap.

and I had no home but the heart's hut, the blistering walls of loneliness, the world's blue skymiles of longing.

Anyone who has gazed into the nighttime sky knows that the dominant objects visible to our unaided eyes are stars.

Acertain blue of the sky is so damn blue that only blood could be more red.

Each place its own psyche. Each sky its own blue.

All I know is that there is comfort in knowing one's place in the universe, even if that means our light is less beautiful than it otherwise would have been. What say you, then, of the night sky?

The love of thee is in the Southern Sky; The sweetness of thee is in the Northern Sky. The beauty of thee carries away hearts; The love of thee makes arms languid; Thy beautiful form relaxes the hands; And hearts are forgetful at the sight of thee.

Tracer lighting up the sky. It's another families' turn to die. A child afraid to even cry out says, He has been here. And I see no bravery, No bravery in your eyes anymore. Only sadness.

It was the farthest she had ever been from home, not only in miles but in feeling. The vastness of the desert frightened her. Everything looked too far away, even the cloudless sky. There was nowhere you could hide in such emptiness.

The open sky in front of him was a deep purple, slowly fading into the bright blue of day, with tinges of orange from the sun on a distant, flat horizon.

Dawn seemed to come late the next day, as if the sun had decided to sleep in, the sky wrapped in gray clouds, the threat of rain heavy and imminent.

But then their laughter was cut off by a strange sound. Something Mark hadn't heard in over a year, and hadn't expected to hear ever again. The sound of engines in the sky.

With my foot on the water, I feel The moon outside, Take on the utmost of its power. I rise and go out through the boats. I set my broad soul upon silver, On the skin of the sky, on the moonlight, Stepping outward from the earth onto water In quest of the miracle.

Let us begin with a simple line, Drawn as a child would draw it, To indicate the horizon, More real than the real horizon, Which is less than line, Which is visible abstraction, a ratio. The line ravishes the page with implications Of white earth, white sky!

Then the whole range, much nearer now, paled into fresh splendor; a full moon rose, touching each peak in succession like some celestial lamplighter, until the long horizon glittered against a blue-black sky.

watching the sky, contemplating the restorative power of unexpected kindness.

Looking at the sky last night and the moon in the first fresh dark, just a few stars, bright with their cold flares, I had a little crumpled thought, 'Oh well, the moon. It's just another place like California.' One's imagination drags its feet as we are inexorably hauled into the future.

Lightning does not come from underground

There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway, a song that they sing when they take to the sea, a song that they sing of their home in the sky, maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep, but singing works just fine for me.

But my loyalties were elsewhere. And the flavor of Pippa's kiss—bittersweet and strange—stayed with me all the way back uptown, swaying and sleepy as I sailed home on the bus, melting with sorrow and loveliness, a starry ache that lifted me up above the windswept city like a kite: my head in the rainclouds, my heart in the sky.

There had been a trapped thought about to emerge, something essential and unspeakable, released by the mention of those blank-faced soldiers. Now it was all gone but the image: dead boys with limbs akimbo, staring into the sky.