Quotes About Thunder

I'm ready for some rock 'n' roll action.

I haven't really used Loki at all in 'Thor: God of Thunder' or the previous volume of Thor.

In the earliest times, which were so susceptible to vague speculation and the inevitable ordering of the universe, there can have existed no division between the poetic and the prosaic. Everything must have been tinged with magic. Thor was not the god of thunder; he was the thunder and the god.

Like alchemists // who looked for the philosopher's stone // in elusive quicksilver, // I shall make ordinary words - // the marked cards of the sharper, the people's coinage - // yield up their magic which was theirs // when Thor was inspiration and eruption, // thunder and worship. …

the thunder from Down Under that gives you the second-most-powerful surge that can flow through your body.

Light, oh where is the light! Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. The night is black as a black stone. Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.

AT DAWN, a juggernaut of thunder wheeled over the stony heavens in a spark-throwing tumult. Rain fell softly on town cupolas, chuckled from rainspouts, and spoke in strange subterranean tongues beneath the windows where Jim and Will knew fitful dreams, slipping out of one, trying another for size, but finding all cut from the same dark, mouldered cloth.

Eres hermosa— le susurró. Ella observó de nuevo con esa mirada que se hace con un rápido parpadeo su rostro tostado por el sol, sus anchos hombros, su porte, su figura alta, inmóvil, que estaba a sus pies. Luego sonrió. En la sombría belleza de su rostro esa sonrisa era como el primer rayo de luz en una noche de tormenta, como una flecha fugaz y clara entre nubes sombrías, anunciadora del amanecer y del trueno.

Gimme eat, I said," he ordered loudly in harsh tones that rumbled ominously through the silent tent like claps of distant thunder.

Maybe it is the thunders who breathed life into my body. They are forever wanting to lift me high and carry me away. -Prodigal Daughters (Kimberly Wesnaut)

Every morning at dawn the village trembles with the rumbling of the wagons. They come in from everywhere, loaded with saltpeter, with corn, with hay. The wheels creak and creak, rattling the windows and waking up the village. That's the hour when the ovens are opened and the air smells of new-baked bread.Suddenly it thunders, perhaps, and the rain falls. perhaps spring is coming. You'll learn there what 'perhaps' means, my son...

He brushed away the thunder, then the clouds, then the colossal illusion of heaven. Yet still the sky was blue.

Barak, the Hebrew word for lightning

Against the windows the storm comes dashing, Through tattered foliage the hail tears crashing, The blue lightning flashes, The rapid hail clashes... The thunder is rumbling And crashing and crumbling...

Again, now, now, again Plashes the rain in heavy gouts, The crinkled lightning Seems ever brightening... And loud and long Again the thunder shouts His battle-song,— One quivering flash, One wildering crash, Followed by silence dead and dull, As if the cloud, let go, Leapt bodily below To whelm the earth in one mad overthrow, And then a total lull...

Lightning does not come from underground

Hot thunder of whisper against my cheek.

The storm had now definitely abated, and what thunder there was now grumbled over more distant hills, like a man saying 'And another thing...' twenty minutes after admitting he'd lost the argument.

What did you say, Arthur? I said, how the hell did you get here? I was a row of dots flowing randomly through the Universe. Have you met Thor? He makes thunder. Hello, said Arthur. I expect that must be very interesting. Hi, said Thor, it is.

And do we also have, do we have … a party of minor deities from the Halls of Asgard?" Away to his right came a rumble of thunder. Lightning arced across the stage. A small group of hairy men with helmets sat looking very pleased with themselves, and raised their glasses to him.

I was a row of dots flowing randomly through the Universe. Have you met Thor? He makes thunder.

The Norse God of Thunder looked at her awkwardly. He had to remove his great horned helmet because it was banging against the ceiling and leaving scratch marks in the plaster.

Have you met Thor? He makes thunder.

I like your custom 1911," the man said, glancing at Pendergast's weapon. "Les Baer Thunder Ranch Special? Nice-looking piece.