Best 67 quotes in «flood quotes» category

If I poured all the lies I had told into the Mississippi, the river would rise and flood the city.

I feel like someone after a deluge being asked to describe the way it was before the flood while I'm still plucking seaweed out of my hair.

If you run from a leaking roof you'll end up with a flood.

In the story, which is only a few chapters long in Genesis, Noah never even speaks until after the flood - but when you have Russell Crowe, you're going to make him speak.

If you should leave me, my heart will turn to water and flood away.

I've always been dissatisfied, I know that. But lately I find that I reek of discontentment. It fills my throat, and it floods my brain. And sometimes I fear there is no longer a dream, but only the discontentment.

I've always painted pictures in which human love floods my colors.

My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out.

Noah had 120 years to warn humanity of the flood. We have only 4-5 years until global warming is irreversible

No individual rain drop ever considers itself responsible for the flood.

One of the reasons I think Barack Obama had the policy he did was purposely to create this flood of refugees from Syria. He wanted them!

Stillborn silence! thou that art Flood-gate of the deeper heart!

M'Illumino D'Immenso - I flood myself with the light of the immense.

Slice open one of my veins and cartoons will pour out; open another vein and you'll get a flood of motor oil.

The single raindrop never feels responsible for the flood.

There are floods of praise coming in as well as criticism.

They always say to Californians that we don't have seasons. Of course, that is not true. We have fire, flood, mud and drought.

The tide of my love Has risen so high let me flood over You.

Time in its irresistible and ceaseless flow carries along on its flood all created things and drowns them in the depths of obscurity.

The rope that pulls you from the flood can become a noose around your neck.

What switched me to films was the flood of American pictures into Paris after the Liberation.

The wise man makes an island of himself that no flood can overwhelm.

When pride thaws, look for floods.

When the flood cometh it sweepeth away grain as well as chaff.

We Californians are constantly accused of not having seasons, but we do. We have fire, flood, mud, and drought.

A young man was sitting at home when a terrible rainstorm began. Within hours, the man’s house began to flood, and someone came to his door offering a ride to higher ground. The man declined, saying, 'God will take care of me.' A few hours later, as the waters engulfed the first floor of the man’s home, a boat passed by, and the captain offered to take the man to safety. The man declined, saying, 'God will take care of me.' A few hours after that, as the man waited on his roof—his entire home flooded—a helicopter flew by, and the pilot offered transportation to dry land. Again the man declined, telling the pilot that God would care for him. Soon thereafter, the waters overcame the man, and as he stood before God in heaven, he protested his fate: 'You promised that you’d help me so long as I was faithful.' God replied, 'I sent you a car, a boat, and a helicopter. Your death is your own fault.' God helps those who help themselves.

When your mind is liberated, your heart floods with compassion.

After counting all the sheep in the world I enumerate the wildebeests, snails, camels, skylarks, etc., then I add up all the zoos and aquariums, country by country. By early light I am asleep in a nightmare about drowning in the Flood,

Anytime I see a rainbow, what comes into my mind is how skillful and talented someone was to create an ark that didn't leak through a prolong period of flood. We must work our talents out and work them out skillfully and then our rainbow of excellence will show.

What need the bridge much broader than the flood?

A tremendous thunderclap was heard, the loudest there has ever been ... The sun remained hidden behind dark clouds, and there was only twilight, gray and misty. Then the earth trembled, and there came a great roar of something immense moving. The people saw a sheer green wall advancing toward them, filling the valley from one side to the other. At first they did not know what it was, and then they realized that it was a wall of green water. Destroying everything in its path, it came like a huge beast, a green monster, rushing upon them, foaming, hissing, in a cloud of spray. It engulfed the seer's house and carried it away with the seer, who was never seen again. Then the water fell upon the villages, sweeping away homes, people, fields and trees. The flood swept the valley clean as with a broom. Then it rushed on beyond the valley to wreak havoc elsewhere.

For the briefest of instants, a miles-wide hole appeared from the middle of the Earth to the top of the sky. The Moho rang like a tuning fork in harmonic response to the billion megaton impact. Seismic waves propagated in all directions, some dampening as normal, others amplified harmonically as Earth’s interior quivered like a bowl of pudding. Seismometers spiked wildly, their needles bouncing back and forth like pin-balls. A billion megatons exploded outward from the depths of the quivering Moho blasting a crater eighty-five miles in diameter and spewing billions of tons of superheated rock twelve hundred miles into space. In the blink of an eye the Earth grew a tail, as a mushroom cloud visible from Mars formed and spread, black as the Devil's eye.

Descriptions of a killer global flood that inundated the inhabited lands of the world turn up everywhere amongst the myths of antiquity. In many cases these myths clearly hint that the deluge swept away an advanced civilization that had somehow angered the gods, sparing 'none but the unlettered and the uncultured' and obliging the survivors to 'begin again like children in complete ignorance of what happened ... in early times'. Such stories turn up in Vedic India, in the pre-Columbian Americas, in ancient Egypt. They were told by the Sumerians, the Babylonians, the Greeks, the Arabs and the Jews. They were repeated in China and south-east Asia, in prehistoric northern Europe and across the Pacific. Almost universally, where truly ancient traditions have been preserved, even amongst mountain peoples and desert nomads, vivid descriptions have been passed down of global floods in which the majority of mankind perished.

Do not avert your eyes. It is important that you see this. It is important that you feel this.

Here is a good message from the ocean: You will be an ocean too if you let every river, every rain, every flood and every stream flow to you freely!

In my journal I logged this comment: "On the day that I was officially a grown woman, I felt anything but feminine rather, befouled from the sweat of hard physical labor and the stinking mud. I wanted nothing so much as to sleep for a week.

I noticed that volcanoes, earthquakes and floods, though are not good events, they are better than the silence of good people when bad people take the podium. The latter are to an extent uncontrollable, but the former can be stopped.

If you speak, that is rain; if you speak too much, that is flood!

Not every dream grows on every land, so you got to watch out! “Sugar cane” dreams should find the environment where there is flooding of great ideas from great people. It will die off if it is planted at the place where the drought of discouragement is a well cherished culture!

My heart is flooded with love. Drowning is the way to go.

It is these empty spaces you have to watch out for, as they flood up with feeling before you even realize what's happened.

Rumours should be juicy and gossips must be mouth-watering, since they have to uplift and make people feel better. Tittle-tattle can have a swift ripple effect and when the ball is rolling very fast, it kick-starts a flood of moral destruction. “Schadenfreude” can, then, be fully enjoyed. (“Juicy rumours”)

People are like water: Many rush pass you, as some will over-flood. Some will drown you, or force you to go their current ways. Some will be cold or hot-tempered, but try to say with the warm ones. Some will come as a raging wave and cause a ripple, or a calm sea, supporting you, quenching your thirst, and flow by your side to where kisses will always stay wet.

She closed her heart As tight as Noah's ark So nothing could get in or out I forgot where we begin So she let it all end And left our love alone in the dark

Suppose it never stops?" she whispered. "The gyptian man didn't say it'd do that. Just that there was going to be a flood." "It feels as if it's going on forever." "There isn't enough water in all the world to do that. Eventually it'll stop and the sun'll come out. Every flood stops in the end and goes down.

The flood myth motif is widespread among many cultures, as seen in Mesopotamian flood stories, the Puranas (ancient Hindu texts), in the Greek Deucalion mythology, the lore of the K'iche' and Maya peoples of Central America, as well as the Muisca people of present day Colombia in South America. In fact, there are oral traidition stories pertaining to this concept from antiquity, from cultures of Sumeria, Babylonia, Germany, Ireland, Finland, the Maasai of Africa, Egypt, India, Turkestan, China, Korea, Malaysia, Lao, Australia, Polynesia, and Native people of North America, Mesoamerica and South America... to name just a handful.

The fullest account we have of Oannes is found in surviving fragments of the works of a Babylonian priest called Berossos who wrote in the third century BC. [...] Oannes did not do his work alone but was supposedly the leader of a group of beings known as the Seven Apkallu--the "Seven Sages"--who were said to have lived "before the flood" (a cataclysmic global deluge features prominently in many Mesopotamian traditions, including those of Sumer, Akkad, Assyria and Babylon). Alongside Oannes, these sages are portrayed as bringers of civilization who, in the most ancient past, gave humanity a moral code, arts, crafts and agriculture and taught them architectural, building and engineering skills.

There had to be something new, some fresh angle. As the rain pattered down around him, Kapenda thought. What was the weirdest thing he'd seen since this all started? He'd been in the tiny town of Chew Stoke a few weeks earlier, filming the remains of a vehicle that had been washed into a culvert and whose driver had died. In Grovehill, no one had died yet but there were abandoned cars strewn along the streets and surrounding tracks, hulking shapes that the water broke around and flowed over in fractured, churning flurries. That was old. Every television station had those shots. He'd been there the year before when the police had excavated a mud-filled railway tunnel and uncovered the remains of two people who had been crushed in a landslide. What they needed was something like that here, something that showed how weak man's civilized veneer was when set against nature's uncaring ferocity. He needed something that contrasted human frailty and natural strength, something that Dali might have painted - a boat on a roof, or a shark swimming up the main street. He needed that bloody house to collapse. ("Into The Water")

There was an ocean above us, held in by a thin sac that might rupture and let down a flood at any second.

Looking at old photographs inundates you with a flood of nostalgic emotions! And you can't be sure where you want to swim in the deluge of memories!