Best 2265 quotes in «moon quotes» category

She has always been admired by the sun; For the way she rises each time after she falls. But the way she sparkles and glows whenever she talks about the things she adores ; makes the moon and stars watch in envy…

she has craters but only a fool can deny her beauty. She silently stare sun whole night & reflects his light his love with stars at times.

She is twice as beautiful as the moon and all of the stars together.

She is like the white skies, the shine, the sun and its rhyme. While he is the darkness that blinds, the moon, the wolf in mysterious confines.

...she noticed that the moon, so clear in the sky, had lost her first slice; the dark was on its way.

She's the kind of girl who brings you to the moon without you even being aware. The kind of girl you trip in love with, The kind of girl you never forget.

She stretched her hands towards the sky. To grab all the stars, to hold the moon, to take away everything that the sky had. So that the sky could finally understand, how it feels to lose everything that makes it beautiful.

She tips back her head and howls: Moooooown! Oh wonderful moooooowwwwwyyyn!

She used to tell me that a full moon was when mysterious things happen and wishes come true.

She wasn’t looking at herself in the glass, but out at a great silver moon hanging beyond a thin metal balcony that looked over the grey towers of a human city.

She was prisoner to an old, forgotten god, kept from her home, probably never to see it again, and yet... the way she sat, poised, calm, clear like a full moon night, she seemed much happier than me, the witch who contained them all, the jailer with the magic key.

Shine and shimmer my Harvest Moon, illuminate the shadows in the sky.

Shit,” I yell at the stars, and shake my fist at… the moon, I guess, for lack of a better target.

Show me the world inside you, I don't mind if you have broken walls or abandoned garden, and if your moon is dark let me hold your hands.

Since 1957 the modern human has filled the sky with tens of thousands of satellites without examining the reason why Earth previously only had one satellite, called the Moon.

Since childhood, I had always been affected by the changes of the moon, sometimes very much so. As the light of the satellite fell on my face my mind cleared, and I knew what was to be done. ("Absolute Evil")

So far away, but so beautiful. So powerful. I can always feel it tugging at me.

Slice up the moon for me sweetheart, cover me up with its craters after a midnight of just desserts.

Someday, Sarah, someone will come along and give you the moon, and the stars too.

Sometimes the moon is light and sometimes it’s in shadow, but you should always remember it’s the same moon.

Sometimes, I doubt the courage My bones are made of And then, A breath finds her way in And her way out The half-way-almost-full moon Smiles down; My heart sighs And quietly whispers: I remember.

Sometimes we believe in miracles, and stars fall from the sky, as if the moon had poured his tears in gold.

Sometimes, when you're deep in the countryside, you meet three girls, walking along the hill tracks in the dusk, spinning. They each have a spindle, and on to these they are spinning their wool, milk-white, like the moonlight. In fact, it is the moonlight, the moon itself, which is why they don't carry a distaff. They're not Fates, or anything terrible; they don't affect the lives of men; all they have to do is to see that the world gets its hours of darkness, and they do this by spinning the moon down out of the sky. Night after night, you can see the moon getting less and less, the ball of light waning, while it grown on the spindles of the maidens. Then, at length, the moon is gone, and the world has darkness, and rest..... ...on the darkest night, the maidens take their spindles down to the sea, to wash their wool. And the wool slips from the spindles into the water, and unravels in long ripples of light from the shore to the horizon, and there is the moon again, rising above the sea....Only when all the wool is washed, and wound again into a white ball in the sky, can the moon-spinners start their work once more....

Somewhere between the stars there is a place for you and me; Where the moon kisses the horizon and the darkness fades away.

SONG OF SUNSET ON THE RIVER A strip of water's spread in the setting sun, Half the river's emerald, half is red. I love the third night of the ninth month, The dew is like pearl; the moon like a bow.

So we baked and sweated together. I like punching the dough. I told myself it was the moon and punched it senseless.

Some men are terrified by the dark nature of the Moon, but not the Devil. The Devil is afraid of nothing he can fuck. And there’s very little the Devil won’t stick his dick in. He’ll bugger the Priest, orgy with Art, and rape the shit out of Justice. The whole of the Universe is the only hole he won’t try to fill.

Some say that you should turn your face from the light of the moon. They say it makes you mad. I turn my face towards it and I laugh. Make me mad, I whisper. Go on, make Mina mad. I laugh again. Some people think that she's already mad, I think.

Sometimes at night when the moon is almost full and my hands go numb from writing, I cleanse myself of her poisoned love. I welcome the water, the inevitability of death and embrace the long painful road out of love.

Sometimes I think the moon is a goddess, watching us with her silver face, sighing when we cry, smiling when we sleep.

Sometimes the night can be your best therapist. For the moon is free, and always there to listen.

So when I watch trains, it makes me think about how much movement there is in the world. How every train has dozens of cars and every car has hundreds of parts, and all those parts and cars work day after day. And then there are all these other motions. People are born and die. Seasons change. Rivers flow to the sea. Earth circles the sun and the moon circles Earth. Everything whirring and spinning toward something. And I get to be part of it for a little while, the way I get to watch a train for a minute or two, and then it's gone.

Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.

Spiritual practice is allowing the temple (your body) to be full of light and to live life as a total celebration.

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white, and in between the moon and you, the angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. I walk in the air, between the rain, through myself and back again where? I don't know.

Sun adores the body Moon romances your soul ... ❤

Success is the moon and happiness is moonlight.

Sun, moon and stars, are objects that already existed in the foundation of human consciousness since birth, in the beginning stage of creation process.

Take some time to get quiet, so you can hear your own soul whisper to you.

Teen: The moon is my mother! My son: So tiny is your mother? DW

Tavin cupped his hands to his mouth. “Here, dragon-dragon-dragon!” he yelled. Lily stared in amazement. Well, that was bold, she thought, and stupid.

Tell me the story.. About how the sun loved the moon so much.. That she died every night.. Just to let him breathe...

The Chinese considered the moon to be yin, feminine and full of negative energy, as opposed to the sun that was yang and exemplified masculinity. I liked the moon, with its soft silver beams. It was at once elusive and filled with trickery, so that lost objects that had rolled into the crevices of a room were rarely found, and books read in its light seemed to contain all sorts of fanciful stories that were never there the next morning.

That's the moon, commissioner: hours of boredom followed by a few seconds of terror.

That’s the moon,’ I said. ‘Gran likes it like that,’ said Lettie Hempstock. ‘But it was a crescent moon yesterday. And now it’s full. And it was raining. It is raining. But now it’s not.’ ‘Gran likes the full moon to shine on this side of the house. She says it’s restful, and it reminds her of when she was a girl,’ said Lettie. ‘And you don’t trip on the stairs.

The activity of loving kindness is the bridge that allows you to slowly, slowly realise the wisdom and perfection of this moment.

The Beloved is Always There, Actively Seeking You.

The black wolf’s curse awakes every time that a full moon points in the middle of the sky.

The Cat and the Moon The cat went here and there And the moon spun round like a top, And the nearest kin of the moon, The creeping cat, looked up. Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon, For, wander and wail as he would, The pure cold light in the sky Troubled his animal blood. Minnaloushe runs in the grass Lifting his delicate feet. Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance? When two close kindred meet, What better than call a dance? Maybe the moon may learn, Tired of that courtly fashion, A new dance turn. Minnaloushe creeps through the grass From moonlit place to place, The sacred moon overhead Has taken a new phase. Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils Will pass from change to change, And that from round to crescent, From crescent to round they range? Minnaloushe creeps through the grass Alone, important and wise, And lifts to the changing moon His changing eyes.

The cool enchantment of evening has arrived after the prostrating heat of summer's day and we lie quietly in anticipation of Your luminous appearance - Mysterious Selene, Whose Lunar Orb relieves the dark of night.