Quotes About Aurora

It was no amalgam of colors comparable to anything in mortal existence. It was as if all natural colors had been mutated into a painfully lush iridescence by some prism fantastically corrupted in its form; it was a rainbow staining the sky after a poison deluge; it was an aurora painting the darkness with a blaze of insanity, a blaze that did not burn vigorously but shimmered with an insect-jeweled frailness.

I love to play a character. If I'm playing Cinderella or Aurora in 'Sleeping Beauty' or something like that, then I enjoy classical a lot. But to do just a two-minute solo, purely to show classical aesthetic, is not my favorite thing to do.

Once long ago in Wisconsin I saw the heavens draped in rich purple auroral clouds fringed and folded in most magnificent forms; but in this glory of light, so pure, so bright, so enthusiastic in motion, there was nothing in the least cloudlike.

the lightning dance of gigantic hellwhip displays, beams the size of small worlds cutting their swath across light-hours and being contorted by the riptides of defensive singularities: the aurora shimmer of defense fields leaping and dying under the assault of terrible energies only to be reborn nanoseconds later.

Aquel que se ata una alegría la alada vida destruye; aquel que besa la alegría según vuela vive en la aurora de la eternidad.

Beautiful and rare Aurora, In the heavens thou art their Flora

Diaval," she hissed, "we are going to follow Aurora." "Are we, mistress? How very different from my usual orders." She scowled at him and he gave her a grin. It was useless trying to intimidate the raven-man these days. He knew her entirely too well.

There was a princess, Aurora, named for the dawn. Her hair was as golden as the crown that would one day rest upon her head. Her eyes were as wide and soft as those of a doe. From the time of her birth, no one could look upon her and not love her.

Once upon a time, the Reindeer took a running leap and jumped over the Northern Lights. But he jumped too low, and the long fur of his beautiful flowing tail got singed by the rainbow fires of the aurora. To this day the reindeer has no tail to speak of. But he is too busy pulling the Important Sleigh to notice what is lost. And he certainly doesn't complain. What's your excuse?

She was riding a bear! And the Aurora was swaying above them in golden arcs and loops, and all around was the bitter Arctic cold and the immense silence of the North.

Except my uncle Ã¢â'¬Â¦ There's something I forgot to tell you. When he was showing them lantern slides, there was another one he had. It was the Roarer—' 'The what?' said John Faa. 'The Aurora,' said Farder Coram.

And the Milky Way, like a great aurora, flowed through his body to stand at the edges of the earth. There was a quiet, chilly loneliness in it, and a sort of voluptuous astonishment.

I stretched out my hand, adrenaline and pain giving me plenty of fuel for the magic, and called, 'Ventas servitas!' Wind leapt out in a sudden spurt, seizing the Unraveling and tearing it from Aurora's fingers, sending it spinning through the air toward me. I caught it, stuck my tongue out at Aurora, yelled, 'Meep, meep!' and ran like hell.

Wisps of arctic blue and green and purple buzzed and whirled within those sharp spikes, sending out a wild coruscation of coloured light. The aurora was mesmerizing and blinding at the same time, and little disco balls hoped that they could grow up to be half as brilliant one day.

We have to find Aurora and stop her. Save the girl." "Or what happens?" Billy asked. "Badness." "Kaboom badness?" I shook my head. "Mostly longer term than that." "Like what?" "How do you feel about ice ages?

Esse amor sem fim, onde andará? Que eu busco tanto e nunca está E não me sai do pensamento Sempre, sempre longe Esse amor tão lindo que se esconde Nos confins do não sei onde Vive em mim além do tempo Longe, longe, onde? Por que não me surges nessa hora Como um sol Como o sol no mar Quando vem a aurora Esse amor que o amor me prometeu E que até hoje não me deu Por que não está ao lado meu? Esse amor sem fim, onde andará? Esse amor, meu amor, Onde andará?

The first," Elise repeated, and for reasons she could only guess at, being first gave her a sense of pleasure. She decided to buy those flowers for Aurora, after all.

The Finns also have a rather lovely word for the aurora borealis: revontulet, which translates as 'foxfire'. The origins are supposedly in a Finnish fable, in which an Arctic fox, running through snow, sprayed up crystals with his tail, causing sparks to fly off into the night sky.

Late August, a clear night becoming cold. There was no aurora borealis, just the dense sparks of the stars blown from their own ancient fire.