Best 2265 quotes in «moon quotes» category

But how can you love a person who is not whole? Because you, like the moon, are not only beautiful when full. In all of your phases and fractions and ivory-white pieces, I love you.

But I look up above and see the sky With the moon and stars capturing my eye I know that you can see it too Cuz no matter where you are the sky remains true

But I promise you, you guys can do it. In four days you'll be the happiest person Earth has ever seen. You'll stand by the ocean and feel the salty sea spray tingling in your nose. You'll be with people you know and love, and you'all appreciate how beautiful everything is. You'll se cars behind you in your rear view mirror, and maybe you'll laugh at the driver's faces. Because they'll look annoyed, bored, angry. And you'll realize what they're missing. You'll live a long and happy life, Mia. Because when you get home, you'll realize that anything is possible. You mustn't ever forget that.

But when I look back at myself at age twenty what I remember most is being alone and lonely. I had no girlfriend to warm my body or my soul, no friends I could open up to. No clue what I should do every day, no vision for the future. For the most part, I remained hidden away, deep within myself. Sometimes I’d go a week without talking to anybody. That kind of life continued for a year. A long, long year. Whether this period was a cold winter that left valuable growth rings inside me, I can’t really say. At the time I felt as if every night I, too, were gazing out a porthole at a moon made of ice. A transparent, eight-inch-thick, frozen moon. But I watched that moon alone, unable to share its cold beauty with anyone.

But—" yelped Twizbang, “Greydor will eat us!

By-passing all scriptures and all that any teacher has to say, we shall, while respecting every finger that points to the moon, be mindful only of the moon. This habit will make it easier to understand the truth that every statement is wrong, whenever made by any man, for it was made in duality and is therefore one-sided, incomplete, and in the final synthesis its opposite is just as true!

By the time she had finished unburdening herself, someone had turned off the moon

Can the sky ever forget his moon?

CIRCLES OF LIFE Everything Turns, Rotates, Spins, Circles, Loops, Pulsates, Resonates, And Repeats. Circles Of life, Born from Pulses Of light, Vibrate To Breathe, While Spiraling Outwards For Infinity Through The lens Of time, And into A sea Of stars And Lucid Dreams. Poetry by Suzy Kassem

Cloud disappeared, Moon appeared, To make my sky less blue.

Cloud root beer floats and moon grilled cheeses. But their favorite food is stardust.

Creativity is in the heart of the dreamer.

Dear Neil Armstrong, I write this to you as she sleeps down the hall. I need answers I think only you might have. When you were a boy, and space was simple science fiction, when flying was merely a daydream between periods of History and Physics, when gifts of moon dust to the one you loved could only be wrapped in your imagination.. Before the world knew your name; before it was a destination in the sky.. What was the moon like from your back yard? Your arm, strong warm and wrapped under her hair both of you gazing up from your back porch summers before your distant journey. But upon landing on the moon, as the earth rose over the sea of tranquility, did you look for her? What was it like to see our planet, and know that everything, all you could be, all you could ever love and long for.. was just floating before you. Did you write her name in the dirt when the cameras weren't looking? Surrounding both your initials with a heart for alien life to study millions of years from now? What was it like to love something so distant? What words did you use to bring the moon back to her? And what did you promise in the moons ear, about that girl back home? Can you, teach me, how to fall from the sky? I ask you this, not because I doubt your feat, I just want to know what it's like to go somewhere no man had ever been, just to find that she wasn't there. To realize your moon walk could never compare to the steps that led to her. I now know that the flight home means more. Every July I think of you. I imagine the summer of 1969, how lonely she must have felt while you were gone.. You never went back to the moon. And I believe that's because it dosen't take rockets to get you where you belong. I see that in this woman down the hall, sometimes she seems so much further. But I'm ready for whatever steps I must take to get to her.I have seem SO MANY skies.. but the moon, well, it always looks the same. So I gotta say, Neil, that rock you landed on, has got NOTHING on the rock she's landed on. You walked around, took samples and left.. She's built a fire cleaned up the place and I hope she decides to stay.. because on this rock.. we can breath. Mr. Armstrong, I don't have much, many times have I been upside down with trauma, but with these empty hands, comes a heart that is often more full than the moon. She's becoming my world, pulling me into orbit, and I now know that I may never find life outside of hers. I want to give her EVERYTHING I don't have yet.. So YES, for her, I would go to the moon and back.... But not without her. We'd claim the moon for each other, with flags made from sheets down the hall. And I'd risk it ALL to kiss her under the light of the earth, the brightness of home... but I can do all of that and more right here, where she is..And when we gaze up, her arms around ME, I will NOT promise her gifts of moon dust, or flights of fancy. Instead I will gladly give her all the earth she wants, in return for all the earth she is. The sound of her heart beat and laughter, and all the time it takes to return to fall from the sky,down the hall, and right into love. God, I'd do it every day, if I could just land next to her. One small step for man, but she's one giant leap for my kind.

Darkness disturbed By the haunting white moonlight Grey half clouds fail to contain The moon's lust for the night.

Dark night knows what full moon requires When all your love my heart acquires Celestial bodies no more faded Life makes sound; silence invaded

Danten kommentaattori Tomaso Casini muistuttaa tässä yhteydessä toscanalaisesta legendasta, jonka mukaan Herra rankaisi Kainia vangitsemalla tämän kuuhun ja määräten tämän kantamaan piikkistä risukimppua aina päivien loppuun saakka.

Dios me creó para que yo lo imitara de noche. Él es el Sol, yo soy la Luna. Mi luz flota sobre todo lo que es fútil o ha terminado, fuego fatuo, márgenes de río, pantanos y sombras.

Despite what we humans may or may not do, the Earth will endure, going on as it always has, forever at home with the revolution of sun and moon and wayward, inconstant star.

Drink the sun’s warmth and the moon’s icy glitter, and taste that which the dead and the yet-to-be-born cannot: the potency of this world.

Distance does not affect the fact that we look at the same moon every night.

Dost thou Not feel them slip, How cold! how cold! the moon's Thin wavering finger-tips, along Thy throat?

Do you ever think of me when you look up at the moon and the stars? When you look into the horizon as the sun sets? We're looking at the same sun, and the stars may burn brighter where you are, but I can't see them, and they're still there. I spend nights trying to see the stars that you see, but I end up seeing you in the stars instead.

During the day the Sun causes wounds. And in the night the Moon heals the wounds. The mountain waits all day for the night when his moon will be finally bright.

Dusk had fallen, While the sky was gray, Red flowers bloomed, And the yellow fade away, Night was to fall, But the sun had to stay, Moon of fourteen, For the lover had to pray, Life gave up hope, Yet the heart had to say, Lover wrote a letter, But the pigeon lost it's way.

Each "way of thinking" has its own shape and color, which wax and wane like the moon.

Easy, man." He slowly turned and his dark eyes narrowed. "Don't mess up your house. Or my face. You like us both. We'll deal with how to handle this as soon as you calm down.

Don't compare her to sunshine and roses when she's clearly orchids and moonlight.

Dreams are like the old stories where wolves are seekers always running, and women carry fire in their bare hands and light the dark paths before them. Old stories hold that the birds will fly all the miles of the world to tell your secrets to the rising moon, and men will walk over oceans of ice to find one truth.

Dunia huzunguka kwenye mhimili wake na huzunguka jua. Jua huzunguka kwenye mhimili wake na huzunguka falaki. Dunia hutumia takriban siku moja kuzunguka kwenye mhimili wake, na hutumia takriban mwaka mmoja kuzunguka jua. Jua hutumia takriban siku ishirini na tano kuzunguka kwenye mhimili wake, na hutumia takriban miaka milioni mia mbili na hamsini kuzunguka falaki. Yoshua alisimamisha jua ili lisizunguke kwenye mhimili wake na lisizunguke falaki. Kwa sababu jua lilisimama, kila kitu kilichoathiriwa na jua hilo kilisimama pia ikiwemo dunia. Hata hivyo, kwa sababu tukio la Yoshua kusimamisha jua na mwezi yalikuwa maajabu kutoka kwa malaika wema, malaika wema ndiyo wanaojua kwa hakika nini kilitokea. Yoshua alikuwa sahihi kusema jua lisimame si dunia isimame. Mungu aliweza kusimamisha jua kwa ajili ya Yoshua kuwashinda maadui zake, kwa sababu aliamini. Mungu anaweza kusimamisha jua kwa ajili yako kuwashinda maadui zako, ukiamini. Mungu anapokuwa na wewe matatizo yako yako matatizoni.

During Xtha-cka Zhi-ga The-the, the Killer of Flowers Moon. I will wade across the river of the blackfish, the otter, the beaver. I will climb the bank where the willow never dies.

East of the sun, west of the moon," said Morozko. "Beyond the next tree.

Even when the moon shrinks and disappears, it shows itself again gradually. When ancient people saw that eternal cycle of death and recovery, they prayed to the moon for their own rebirth. Rebirth. Will I be reborn? ... If I were reborn, what would I become?

Estatico, cadde a sedere sul suo carico, davanti alla buca. Eccola, eccola là, eccola là, la Luna... C'era la Luna! La Luna! E Ciàula si mise a piangere, senza saperlo, senza volerlo, dal gran conforto, dalla grande dolcezza che sentiva, nell'averla scoperta, là, mentr'ella saliva pel cielo, la Luna, col suo ampio velo di luce ignara dei monti, dei piani, delle valli che rischiarava, ignara di lui, che pure per lei non aveva più paura, né si sentiva più stanco, nella notte ora piena del suo stupore.

Even a man who is pure in heart, And says his prayers by night, May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms, And the moon is full and bright.

Even the moon cannot escape your intoxicating charms...

ENDURANCE I don't know you, But I love you, Just as God loves me and you. The sun and the moon Are opposing forces, But they still greet each other, Peacefully, As one awakens in the morning, Just as the other goes to sleep. Life has pounded me down And thrashed me around, Time and time again, But I always get right back up, Because I still love life - Just as the earth still loves The rain.

Everybody has a little bit of the sun and moon in them. Everybody has a little bit of man, woman, and animal in them. Darks and lights in them. Everyone is part of a connected cosmic system. Part earth and sea, wind and fire, with some salt and dust swimming in them. We have a universe within ourselves that mimics the universe outside. None of us are just black or white, or never wrong and always right. No one. No one exists without polarities. Everybody has good and bad forces working with them, against them, and within them. PART SUN AND MOON by Suzy Kassem

Everyday's a honeymoon. Cuz darling, I love you to the moon.

Every spark returns to darkness. Every sound returns to silence. Every flower returns to sleep with the earth. The journey of the sun and moon is predictable. But yours, is your ultimate art.

Everyone wants sunshine but sometimes Moon's light even help us while on the path of Life

Every month there is a moon, gigantic, round, heavy, an omen. IT transits, pauses, continues on and passes out of sight, and I see despair coming towards me like famine. To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time.

Everything is temporary but the power of Love is Infinite because it is the space, it is Everything.

Every trace of the passionate plumage of the cloudy sunset had been swept away, and a naked moon stood in a naked sky. The moon was so strong and full, that (by a paradox often to be noticed) it seemed like a weaker sun. It gave, not the sense of bright moonshine, but rather of a dead daylight.

Every time the moon whispered, the universe echoed stars.

For the Earth itself is a blossom, she says, on the star tree, pale with luminous ocean leaves.

Far above him a few white clouds were racing windily after a pale gibbous moon. Drink all morning, they said to him, drink all day. This is life!

Featherweight by Suzy Kassem One evening, I sat by the ocean and questioned the moon about my destiny. I revealed to it that I was beginning to feel smaller compared to others, Because the more secrets of the universe I would unlock, The smaller in size I became. I didn't understand why I wasn't feeling larger instead of smaller. I thought that seeking Truth was what was required of us all – To show us the way, not to make us feel lost, Up against the odds, In a devilish game partitioned by An invisible wall. Then the next morning, A bird appeared at my window, just as the sun began Spreading its yolk over the horizon. It remained perched for a long time, Gazing at me intently, to make sure I knew I wasn’t dreaming. Then its words gently echoed throughout my mind, Telling me: 'The world you are in – Is the true hell. The journey to Truth itself Is what quickens the heart to become lighter. The lighter the heart, the purer it is. The purer the heart, the closer to light it becomes. And the heavier the heart, The more chained to this hell It will remain.' And just like that, it flew off towards the sun, Leaving behind a tiny feather. So I picked it up, And fastened it to a toothpick, To dip into ink And write my name.

Find me, as time is a luxury For I wait, under this naïve moon

Far above the snow clouds, the moon must have been bright and full. Its light bled through the storm, marking each flake with a silvery luster and pouring a pale, peachy glow onto the mountain.

FEELINGS ON WATCHING THE MOON The times are hard: a year of famine has emptied the fields, My brothers live abroad- scattered west and east. Now fields and gardens are scarcely seen after the fighting, Family members wander, scattered on the road. Attached to shadows, like geese ten thousand li apart, Or roots uplifted into September's autumn air. We look together at the bright moon, and then the tears should fall, This night, our wish for home can make five places one.