Quotes About Motes

A shaft of light from the window falls onto the paper. Has it been there all this time? Dust motes twirl inside like acrobats in a spotlight, freed from gravity, a sight so beautiful he feels a catch in his chest.

I could see dust motes dancing around joyfully in the air. What do dust motes have to be so happy about?

Motes of dust dancing in the light - that's our dance too. We don't listen inside to hear the music - No matter. The dance goes on, and in the joy of the sun is hiding a god. - Rumi

Motes of dust dancing in the light - that's our dance too. We don't listen inside to hear the music - No matter. The dance goes on, and in the joy of the sun is hiding a god.

Bars of sunlight cast through rents in the walls made motes of dust glitter where they yet hung in the air.

Infinity is present in each part. A loving smile contains all art. The motes of starlight spark and dart. A grain of sand holds power and might.

Compared to what is stirring in the galaxy, you and I are little more than motes of dust.

Compared to what is stirring in the galaxy, you and I are little more than motes of dust." Still

Sometimes she sat and let her mind go blank and her eyes go out of focus, so that she watched the slow, jerky movements of the motes that floated across her pupils. They amazed her as a child. Now she saw them as a reflection of how she moved, floating listlessly through the world, occasionally bumping into another body without acknowledgment, and then floating on, free and alone.

In the old house, the past hung in the air like motes of dust waiting to be illuminated by the sharp rays of memory

Bored and insecure men will loose arrows at dust motes.

A whirlwind had entered the room and turned the whole thing upside down. Now it settled around Alice, tiny dust motes glittering as they fell.

Here and there a thin beam of light threaded the warm brooding dusk and was filled with slowly moving motes like an attenuate firmament of stars revolving in grave order.

An infiltration of the morning's sun gave the various objects a certain vague structure but in no way dispelled the darkness. Here and there a thin beam of light threaded the warm brooding dusk and was filled with slowly moving motes like an attenuate firmament of stars revolving in grave order. One of these narrow beams lit Fuchsia's forehead and shoulder, and another plucked a note of crimson from her dress.

She hands him his coffee; crosses to the doorway; motes of dust flutter nervously in her wake.

Planet earth, which Carl Sagan described as a "mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam," is an evanescent bloom in an exquisite cosmos that will ultimately be barren. Motes of dust, nearby or distant, dance on sunbeams for merely a moment.

It is true that we are made of dust. And the world is also made of dust. But the dust has motes rising.

Finnigin found himself outside on the street, his vision disturbed by swirling motes of light and shade.

Sifting daylight dissolves the memory, turns it into dust motes floating in light.

You just have to learn not to care about the dust mites under the beds.

A solitary finger of light fell upon it, illuminating motes of golden dust floating in the air.

The wind was not invisible. It had a texture, as though it carried a weight of dust, the motes steadily gumming up her eyes and sealing her nose, finding its way into her underwear and up into her body by those routes too.

Henceforth the cosmos, once a swarm of blazing galaxies, each a swarm of stars, was composed wholly of star-corpses. These dark grains drifted through the dark void, like an infinitely tenuous smoke rising from an extinguished fire. Upon these motes, these gigantic worlds, the ultimate populations had created here and there with their artificial lighting a pale glow, invisible even from the innermost ring of lifeless planets.

Peering down into the water where the morning sun fashioned wheels of light, coronets fanwise in which lay trapped each twig, each grain of sediment, long flakes and blades of light in the dusty water sliding away like optic strobes where motes sifted and spun.