Best 1847 quotes in «rain quotes» category

  • By Anonym

    It was a bad night to be about with such a feeling in one's heart. The rain was cold, pitiless and increasing. A damp, keen wind blew down the cross streets leading from the river. The fumes of the gas works seemed to fall with the rain. The roadway was muddy; the pavement greasy; the lamps burned dimly; and that dreary district of London looked its very gloomiest and worst. ("The Old House In Vauxhall Road")

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    It was a beautiful spring night, the air rain-washed and smelling of crushed blossoms, and Henry felt as if the muscles of his body were singing in unison.

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    It was a rainy night. It was the myth of a rainy night.

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    It was a vast, luminous dream in which his whole life seemed to stretch out before him like a landscape on a summer evening after rain

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    It was night, and the sky spreading into a rain that fell like darkness visible, a glistering where there was no light.

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    It was raining when Rahel came back to Ayemenem. Slanting silver ropes slammed into loose earth, plowing it up like gunfire. The old house on the hill wore its steep, gabled roof pulled over its ears like a low hat.

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    It was raining again the next morning, a slanting gray rain like a swung curtain of crystal beads. I got up feeling sluggish and tired and stood looking out of the windows, with a dark, harsh taste of Sternwoods still in my mouth. I was as empty of life as a scarecrow's pockets. I went out to the kitchenette and drank two cups of black coffee. You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. I had one from women.

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    It was raining that night, when we kissed for the first time.

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    It was the kind of storm that suggests the whole sky has swallowed a diuretic.

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    It was uncontrollable, overpowered by others, these colors within me, staring out at a black and white world; without spurning about, wanting to rule, too much negligence, they left me no choice, but to surrender. It was time, had to crash the lightning, and bow to the rain, where promises have broken, and pain still reigns. Had to give up myself and bring life to the world, had to. Dye

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    I've explained my feelings about old shoes; add to that decrepit hats for the rain. Rain can be pretty romantic. Why look like a drowned scarecrow when you can be a touch of sunshine on a dark day in perky rainwear?

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    I’ve got to stop looking at you, like you light my world. You’re the dark cloud which brings the rain. You’re the hurricane which destroys my peace. You are not the sun. I am my own light.

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    I wanted to say something to make her pain go away and make everything better. But, I realized that there was no answer. Bad things happen to good people. Rain always falls on the people who deserve nothing less than the sun.

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    I watched the rain stream across the window in little rivulets with sunshine coming through. For me, the rain has always been an emotional thing that makes me very happy. However, living with the fact that it will never last forever breaks my heart. The slow falling rain reminds me of the time when I and my father would just watch the rain until it stopped. It has been a warm memory ever since.

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    I will continue to exist in all these little moments. where we took the first dip of love and my heart skipped a beat. Our first walk, the first touch which burnt my soul, that first rain, the first kiss, the first comfortable silence between us. How many years may pass, Whenever I am sitting near the window and its raining or whenever I am sitting by a fireside and its cold, There will always be a piece of me which reminds me of you. It will stay in this moment forever.

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    I want you to crave the crisp ocean breeze as much as I do. I want your soul to be as rain-swept as mine.

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    I want you to know how perfect your body looks after a shower. Fresh. Covered in little drops of water. Just like dewy grass after a night of rainfall.

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    I went back to my car again and sat and sat. The top dripped on my knees and my stomach burned from the whiskey. No more cars came up the hill. No lights went on in the house before which I was parked. It seemed like a nice neighborhood to have bad habits in.

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    I wish to stay drenched forever in those rain-blue eyes in those...soul-reaching crystals not moving a muscle nor breathing just savoring this turquoise ache against my heart.

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    I will love you like the desert burns along the sun when they are together, and when you will be gone, just like every one else, I will cry for you like the snow that melts at the first hint of summer... and hoping that you'll be back I will miss you like the clouds lose themselves when it rains...

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    I wish in the city of your heart you would let me be the street where you walk when you are most yourself. I imagine the houses: It has been raining, but the rain is done and the children kept home have begun opening their doors.

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    Love me...with all the abandon of a sudden wild rain.

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    Londoners, with their noses pressed to cold windows, smiled, for a mid-summer storm was raging across England. Zues had blessed their land, taking away the bright happy sun and replacing it with gusty winds, lashing rain and utter misery.

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    Let's just sit quietly and listen to the secrets the rain wants to tell us.

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    Love can crystallize things. When love is in the air, distressing rain can become a wonderful avalanche of shimmering diamonds. Raindrops are transformed into a flood of sparkling crystal pearls. The power of love can convert rain into a multitude of glittering prisms. The mental seduction of love and a boundless illusion, inflamed by a profound uprising emotion, can change any ordinary incident into a radiant, luminous voyage. ( "Crystallization under an umbrella" )

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    Loving you is like walking between rain drops.

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    Major Chhetri's pronouncement when we'd first arrived in Nepal came echoing back: "Things that start in the rain end well.

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    Mbegu tunazopanda leo ni mazao ya msimu ujao. Ukipanda mbegu mbaya utavuna mabaya. Ukipanda mbegu nzuri utavuna mazuri. Ukitenda mabaya leo kesho yako itakuwa mbaya. Ukitenda mazuri leo kesho yako itakuwa nzuri. Okoa kesho leo kwa kupanda mbegu nzuri na kuzimwagilia kwa imani na upendo kwa watu. Mungu ataleta mvua, jua na ustawi wa mazao yako. Panda mbegu ya msamaha kwa maadui zako, uvumilivu kwa wapinzani wako, tabasamu kwa marafiki zako, mfano bora kwa watoto wako, uchapakazi kwa kazi zako, uadilifu kwa waajiri wako na kwa wafanyakazi wako pia kama unao, ndoto kwa malengo yako, na uaminifu kwa marafiki zako wa ukweli. Kila mbegu irutubishwe kwa mapenzi huru yasiyokuwa na masharti yoyote, au mapenzi huru yasiyokuwa na unafiki wa aina yoyote ile. Usifiche vipaji vyako. Ukiwa kimya utasahaulika. Usipopiga hatua utarudi nyuma. Usiwe na hasira, wivu au ubinafsi.

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    Mrs Davidson was saying she didn't know how they'd have got through the journey if it hadn't been for us," said Mrs Macphail, as she neatly brushed out her transformation. "She said we were really the only people on the ship they cared to know." "I shouldn't have thought a missionary was such a big bug that he could afford to put on frills." "It's not frills. I quite understand what she means. It wouldn't have been very nice for the Davidsons to have to mix with all that rough lot in the smoking-room." "The founder of their religion wasn't so exclusive," said Dr Macphail with a chuckle. William Somersert Maugham, "Rain

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    Mind chatter: a clatter of left-brain rains of doubt, worry, guilt, shame in a thunderstorm of fear. Forgive the chatter, clear your mind.

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    Misery is a routine you can learn to live with. It's like rain. Once you're soaked to the skin, you can't get any wetter.

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    Mungu hutumia watu 'wajinga' na 'wapumbavu' kufanya mambo makubwa katika maisha yao na ya watu wengine. Katika Biblia, Musa aliitwa mjinga alipokiuka amri ya Farao ya kuendelea kuwafanya watumwa wana wa Israeli nchini Misri; Nuhu aliitwa mpumbavu alipohubiri kwa miaka mia kuhusu gharika, katika kipindi ambacho watu hawakujua mvua ni nini; Daudi aliitwa mjinga alipojitolea kupambana na Goliati bonge la mtu, shujaa wa Gathi; Yusufu aliitwa mjinga alipokataa kulala na mke wa bosi wake, baada ya kuwa ameuzwa na nduguze kama mtumwa nchini Misri; Abrahamu aliitwa mjinga alipoamua kuhama nchi aliyoipenda na kwenda katika nchi ya ahadi, eti kwa sababu Mungu alimwambia kufanya hivyo; Yesu aliitwa mjinga mpaka akasulubiwa aliposema yeye ni Mfalme na Mwana wa Mungu. LAKINI, Musa alitenganisha Bahari ya Shamu na kuwapeleka Waisraeli katika nchi ya ahadi, ambako aliwakomboa kutoka utumwani. Nuhu aliokoa dunia. Daudi alimshinda Goliati. Yusufu aliokoa familia yake kutokana na njaa. Abrahamu alikuwa baba wa imani. Yesu aliyashinda mauti. Wakati mwingine tunatakiwa kufanya mambo makubwa kulingana na jinsi Roho Mtakatifu anavyotutuma, bila kujali watu au dunia itasemaje.

  • By Anonym

    My dream, I have faith in you! Tell me that reality won't vanquish you; it won't crush my lively spirit into wafts of sorrowful aches, that's what you should vow. I remember you, you used to make me smile for a hope I have always desired, it made my pain worth its dreadfulness. I waited for the sunshine and it made me love and enjoy the rain. We were trapped by dense clouds, now I think I am free.. to breathe again. Like the sea waves, hope visits my shore carrying the light for the frozen heart and the darkened soul.

  • By Anonym

    My mother used to say that rain here pours like a blessing, like a thick veil that parts to reveal the bride's face. But nearly every day, when this rain parted, it revealed a long line of soldiers, like you, like death, marching toward us, and we would scatter with a practiced silence and hide.

  • By Anonym

    My people? Who are they? I went into the church where the congregation Worshiped my God. Were they my people? I felt no kinship to them as they knelt there. My people! Where are they? I went into the land where I was born, Where men spoke my language. I was a stranger there. “My people,” my soul cried. “Who are my people?” Last night in the rain I met an old man Who spoke a language I do not speak, Which marked him as one who does not know my God. With apologetic smile he offered me The shelter of his patched umbrella. I met his eyes...And then I knew...

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    My goal is to read as much as possible books, my dream is to meet the snow person, the storm person and to make something together. I will be the rain, Snowy will be the snow, Stormy will be the storm - it's not so complicated as far I see.

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    My phone is on my bed, whispering in my ear like a bottle of scotch to a recovering alcoholic, while the rain continues cackling at me through my window.

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    Nana always said the rain was Nature's way of adding sparkle to the outdoors.

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    My tears of joy hear the raindrops crying, as the rain never wants to pour down on my cloudy days when I make our love-dreams for the sun to dream only for you.... (From the poem "Only For You" By Munia Khan)

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    Nobody can give up rain and nobody can give up love because the former makes this life possible and the latter makes it meaningful!

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    Never lose hope. The darkest clouds precede the loveliest rain!

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    Night was fading over the fields as if the rain had washed the darkness out of the hem of its garment.

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    No struggle, no success! The strongest thunder strikes often bring the heaviest rainfall! The weight of your fulfillment depends on how wide you cast your nets!

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    No sane person resists the smell of the soil when sprinkled with water, Especially the smell of the intercourse between earth and rain.

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    Not even a cat was out. The rain surged down with a steady drone. It meant to harm New York and everyone there. The gutters could not contain it. Long ago they had despaired of the job and surrendered. But the rain paid no attention to them… New York people never lived in houses or even in burrows. They inhabited cells in stone cliffs. They timed the cooking of their eggs by the nearest traffic light. If the light went wrong, so did the eggs…

  • By Anonym

    Nothing you did could have changed anything. And that being angry and blaming yourself for not being able to control the past or the future is only going to hurt worse. If you keep thinking like this, you will only be re-inventing pain. Heaven would tell you that it’s just a little rain. And it’s not the rain that kills you, it’s the pain of wanting to control the sun.

  • By Anonym

    O Megh (Rain) let the raindrops fall...

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    Oh, I could let the world go by, Its loud new wonders and its wars, BUt how will I give up the sky When winter dusk is set with stars? And I could let the cities go, Their changing customs and their creeds,– But oh, the summer rains that blow In silver on the jewel-weeds!

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    Once lively peonies now wind-weary, and ragged at the edges, hang their heavy crowns; rain on their backs, one final act, before detaching from the stem and falling down.

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    once I heard her husky laughter pour out like rain after a drought