Quotes About Ethereal

Love seems to beautify and inspire all nature. It raises the earthly caterpillar into the ethereal butterfly, it paints the feathers in spring, it lights the glowworm's lamp, it wakens the song of birds, and inspires the poet's lay. Even inanimate Nature seems to feel the spell, and flowers glow with the richest colours.

He's lighter than you'd think, like whatever was inside him was used up long ago. With that reasoning, it's a wonder I don't float off into the sky.

The grey sky had changed a little in character now. It was dimly interspersed with twinkling points of pale luminosity. Most of these points were so blurred and indistinct that it would have been hard to catch them again at a second glance in the same position in the vast ether. They were like nothing on earth; and to nothing on earth could they be compared. They were the stars, not of the night but of the twilight.

Cine n-ar dori s? moar? visând c? moare?

If you Have ever Fainted, You Are a stranger in the land of the dead!

Memories are of the ethereal, and not the material world, that is how I know I am forever.

I've been to the other side...You're dead there, too.

The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment.

I think the truly natural things are dreams, which nature can't touch with decay.

I love to live in a magical place.

the Missus stood like a ghost.

There was nothing to see; the mist that hung in the air made everything invisible that was more than a short distance away.

The shock of first seeing a birch tree at night, rising up in the dark as cool and slim as a ghost. And the nights, bigger than imagining: black and gusty and enormous, disordered and wild with stars.

There were no stars, or if they were they shone like volcanic glass.

Music is well said to be the speech of angels. -Thomas Carlyle

Angels shine from without because their spirits are lit from within by the light of God. -Eileen Elias Freeman, The Angels' Little Instruction Book

In Heaven an angel is nobody in particular. -George Bernard Shaw

was low in the sky, and the woods seemed to be sprouting strange

Man was made of a little mud and water. Could not a woman be made of dew, earthen mists and beams of light, condensed remnants of a rainbow?

He thinks I'm an angel. What would an angel say?

I dreamed of a hummingbird made of sky.

He looked different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight.

and her skin shone luminous and impossibly pale, as if it drank light from the moon.

The spells hung on us yet I felt weightless.