Best 3787 quotes in «water quotes» category

They kissed in the middle of the sidewalk, letting the crowds of people flow around them like water around an island.

They tell us the greatest love story is how water fell in love with fire. Or how satan fell in love with God. But the greatest love story to me is how I didn’t notice myself falling, when I fell in love with you

This couldn’t be just a lake. No real water was ever blue like that. A light breeze stirred the pin-cherry tree beside the window, ruffled the feathers of a fat sea gull promenading on the pink rocks below. The breeze was full of evergreen spice.

This fusion of wood and water is an entrancing thing. Without the wood the stream would be nothing: a mere thin watercourse winding through its flat meadows. Without the water the wood, on its slope and with its air of quietness and mystery and of being a world within itself, could not help being a constantly delightful thing. But water and wood, together, shading and watering and bounding each other, each give to the other something which the other does not possess, the wood giving to the stream something solid and shadowy and immemorial, the stream giving to the wood all the incomparable movement and twinkling transcience of moving water, the tree shadows standing deep in the stream, the reflection of sunlight flickering a kind of waterlight up into the shadowy branches of pine and alder. The wood and the water are here, in fact, one, for each other and with each other. It is a fusion that is almost perfect.

This is a silly place. Half the world has no clean water. The other half has so much that they pooh in it.

This was once Mazama, I kept reminding myself. This was once a mountain that stood nearly 12,000 feet tall and then had its heart removed. This was once a wasteland of lava and pumice and ash. This was once an empty bowl that took hundreds of years to fill. But hard as I tried, I couldn't see them in my mind's eye. Not the mountain or the wasteland or the empty bowl. They simply were not there anymore. There was only the stillness and the silence of that water: what a mountain and a wasteland and an empty bowl turned into after the healing process.

...though by then it had become increasingly difficult to distinguish the acts of God from the endeavors of men. The wind was God; of this they were confident. As were the mountains funneling the wind. But the sand, all that monstrous, infinite sand. Who had latticed the Southwest with a network of aqueducts? Who had drained first Owens Lake then Mono Lake, Mammoth Lake, Lake Havasu and so on, leaving behind wide white smears of dust? Who had diverted the coast's rainwater and sapped the Great Basin of its groundwater? Who had tunneled beneath Lake Mead, installed a gaping outlet at its bottommost point, and drained it like a sink? Who had sucked up the Ogallala Aquifer, the Rio Grande aquifer, the snowpack of the Sierras and the Cascades? If this was God, he went by new names: Los Angeles City Council, Los Angeles Department of Water and Power, City of San Diego, City of Phoenix, Arizona Water and Power, New Mexico Water Commission, Las Vegas Housing and Water Authority, Bureau of Land Management, United States Department of the Interior.

To take a breath of water: does the thought panic or excite you?

Too often our visions of the future are dull and impotent like a hammer beating the water.

Traditional angling is a mindset. So,have you set your mind?

To transform a grimace into a sound sounds impossible, yet it is possible to transform a vision into music, to go outside an enslaved personality, to become impersonal by transforming into sand, into water, into light.

True leaders are like statues, whether it rains or it shines, they never bend their necks to look backwards! They never run away from challenges!

Treat your relationship as if you are growing the most beautiful sacred flower. Keep watering it, tend to the roots, and always make sure the petals are full of color and are never curling. Once you neglect your plant, it will die, as will your relationship.

Underwater, bubbles erupted before my eyes as a swift hand snatched my arm and pulled me to the surface. I gasped for air, coughing and gagging at the amount of water I sucked into my lungs by pure shock. What was up with me and breathing in water? I needed to grow some gills or something.

Trying to educate the dumb with a dumb teacher is nothing but washing the dirty clothes in a dirty water!

Underlying many aspects of water development is a myth: the myth that we must have more.

Venus was rising, holding her own in the sky that was beginning to brighten. As I left the docks and warehouses behind, I came to a marshy shoreline, thick with water reeds. Though the sky above was clear, the water's surface swirled with little mists. I began to sing a song to Isis, made up on the spot, which caught the rhythm of the oars. A breeze sprang up and the reeds sang with me. Then as the first rays of sun dimmed the stars, birds everywhere lifted their voices and rose in line after line into the sky. On the outskirts of the city, I came to what looked like it might have been an abandoned villa or farmstead. I decided to sit down and watch the lake changing colors with the light. That's when I heard it. Not the soft lapping of the water against the shore, but the sound of flowing water. I looked and in the glowing light, I saw a small stream, eally just a trickle washing down a pebbly incline towards the lake. Something prompted me to follow the stream inland. I made my way though brambly thickets of brambling roses. The way seemed to open for me, the thorns all but retracting so as not to catch my cloak or scratch my arms and legs. At the source, I knelt down and parted the thicket, and there it was. The spring at the base of the hill so steep, it was almost a cliff. The water bubbled up from the darkness of earth, giving back the brightness of sky. Like all springs, a way between worlds. I was no stranger to sacred springs and magic wells. I was raised to revere them. I had first glimpsed my beloved on the well of wisdom on Tir n mBan. But this spring. I closed my eyes to listen to its sound, and I knew I had heard it before. The wind picked up, washing over me, scented with fish and roses. When it quieted again, I opened my eyes and gazed at the clear surface of the pool, and for an instant, I saw a tower, and the dawn sky, and the two people standing there. Then the image vanished, but I had seen all I needed to see. Alright, I said to myself, my goddess, to Miriam's know it all angels, Magala is is. And by the way, I added, my name is Maeve.

Use the water of encouragement on someone else's flowers - especially the flowers that are wilted, trampled on, and taken for granted. But don't nourish the weeds.

Up the coast a few miles north, in a lava reef under the cliffs, there are a lot of rock pools. You can visit them when the tide is out. Each pool is separate and different, and you can, if you are fanciful, give them names, such as George, Charlotte, Kenny, Mrs. Strunk. Just as George and the others are thought of, for convenience, as individual entities, so you may think of a rock pool as an entity; though, of course, it is not. The waters of its consciousness - so to speak - are swarming with hunted anxieties, grim-jawed greeds, dartingly vivid intuitions, old crusty-shelled rock-gripping obstinacies, deep-down sparkling undiscovered secrets, ominous protean organisms motioning mysteriously, perhaps warningly, toward the surface light. How can such a variety of creatures co-exist at all? Because they have to. The rocks of the pool hold their world together. And, throughout the day of the ebb tide, they know no other.

Walking on water is easy if you know where to step.

Vomit began to spill out of me like pea soup, splattering the road with champagne and caviar, long island iced teas, of bacon appetizers and croissants, and a perfectly grilled filet mignonette. It had gone down easy, among the kiss ups of the lawyer world, but spewed out nastily and hard, in the company of a cheater.

Want some?" he asks, pointing to his dinner. Maybe eating will calm my nerves. "What is it?" "Enchiladas. Mi'ama makes kick-ass enchiladas." He stabs a small portion with a fork and holds it out to me. "If you're not used to this kind of spicy food--" "I love spicy," I interrupt, taking it into my mouth. I start chewing, enjoying the blend of flavors. But when I swallow, my tongue slowly catches on fire. Somewhere behind all the fire there's flavor, but the flames are in the way. "Hot," is all I can say as I attempt to swallow. "I told you." Alex holds out the cup he'd been drinking from. "Here, drink. Milk usually does the trick, but I only have water." I grab the cup. The liquid cools my tongue, but when I finish the water it's as if someone stokes it again. "Water . . . ," I say. He fills another cup. "Here, drink more, though I don't think it'll help much. It'll subside soon." Instead of drinking it this time, I stick my tongue in the cold liquid and keep it there. Ahhh . . . "You okay?" "To I wook otay?" I ask. "With your tongue in the water like that, actually, it's erotic. Want another bite?" he asks mischievously, acting like the Alex I know. "Mo mank ooh.

Water is a desert's gold.

Water flows, but never changes. It's always H2O.

Water doesn’t have a beauty like the mirage's charming beauty. -Red White Love: The Love of Liverpool FC

Water has no mouth, but swallows many. Light has no hands, but touches many. Wind has no feet, but carries many. Darkness has no teeth, but devours many.

Water is sacred to all Human Beings. If you do not have water, you cannot have life. I always remember to honor and pour the water because it is traditional.

Water is water. Water is life sustenance.

Water may be extremely dirty, yet its nature remains clear.

Water shapes its course according to the nature of the ground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe whom he is facing.

Water shines under the sun. But the sun dries it. (Eau brille sous soleil - Qui pourtant l’assèche.)

Water.

Water was liquid silver, water was gold. It was clarity—a sacred thing.

Water is the ocean's jewel.

Water liked to be free. . . Water hated being trapped, just like Percy

Water’s water and that’s why it’s beautiful.

Water belongs to us all. Nature did not make the sun one person's property, nor air, nor water, cool and clear.

Water drops erode mountains not because of their size, but their persistence.

Water has nowhere to hide in the ocean. Light has nowhere to hide in the sun. Air has nowhere to hide in the world. Nature has nowhere to hide in the universe.

Water creates so much beauty, life and mystery.

Water is always working, reorganizing the land.

Water is greater than rain. Air is mightier than wind. Heat is tougher than fire. Light is stronger than sunshine.

Water is intrinsically linked to the mystery and excitement of discovering new worlds.

Water was liquid silver, water was gold. It was clarity—a sacred thing. Drinking was no longer something to take for granted. I’d never needed to consider water before.

Water is one of the least understood aspects of biology.

Water is peaceful. I am at rest. In the water, I am safe and pulled in where I can't get out. Everything slows down-the noise and the racing of my thoughts.

Water is soft, but can maneuver any obstacle; be shrewd, and be gentle, and you too will be able to do likewise.

Water is the reason of our birth; it is the healer, the destroyer and the final consumer.

Water is water.

Water reflectivity is altering with the progress of global pollution.