Quotes About Ethereal

Perhaps we always want the person we love, to have the existence of a ghost.

The body, she says, is subject to the force of gravity. But the soul is ruled by levity, pure.

There are unlimited numbers of angels, beyond the human ability to count. Every time God has a thought of love, a new angel is created.

And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air.

The spacious firmament on nigh, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. Forever singing, as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.

There is something haunting in the light of the moon.

Ce n'était pas un homme ni un pilote comme les autres. Il portait sur lui le reflet des éléments, de l'espace. Il semblait oint par l'huile et poudré par le pollen du monde.

I must not bite him. Moon

The word that most perfectly describes the city of Cuzco is evocative. Intangible dust of another era settles on its streets, rising like the disturbed sediment of a muddy lake when you touch its bottom.

White as ash, her face, but ashes hold the phantoms of fires.

All they could see was sky, water, birds, light, and confluence. It was the whole morning world.

The ethereal nature of mists means that while they may appear solid and to have distinct forms, they are also immaterial, and can readily become formless.

where I walked, the frost shaped itself to my will, dancing in the air like music over water.

Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.

I'm either thought of as ethereal or fiery. And maybe that's the interesting thing about red hair: there's that fiery Renaissance connotation and the ethereal.

The cool breeze that ruffled her hair felt like something more than wind. 

Nicolas Wells rejoignit les autres. De son onde propre, il renrichit la vibration collective : OM. Un instant, il se sentit devenir un nuage immatériel et léger qui s'élevait et traversait les matières. C'était mille fois mieux qu'être dieu parmi les fourmis. Libre ! Il était libre.

If I wasn't a singer, I would be a fairy princess.

Night is brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.

How very like a dream this all is.

No hay que tocar a los ídolos: su dorado se nos queda en las manos

Il ne faut pas toucher aux idoles: la dorure en reste aux mains.

but I don't need to go into a church and kiss a silver platter and reach into my pockets to fatten a pack of humbugs who eat better than we do! Because one can honor him just as well in a forest, in a field, or even by gazing up at the ethereal vault, like the ancients.

It seemed as if she went through life touching it scarcely at all