Best 2219 quotes in «sky quotes» category

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 night he would give up on sleeping in his pain and drowning in his silence; he would watch the few stars that were in the sky that night, but he would never be living them. Something has taken his warmth and replaced it with a starless sky.

Eagle's flight of loneliness soars so high Around its sigh, no more alone the sky Other birds remain away, clouds pass by Between shrouds of life and haze sun rays die

...early on Monday evening, when the sky was the color of a velvet ribbon falling over the hills.

Easter blessings All life’s sacrifices like autumn leaves awaken our senses and power to love and be whole Our Mother Earth, Our Father Sky embraces our happiness and laughter Praise be to freedom and life’s seasons Praise be to Christ’s freedom song

Echo of the waves appears in the sky, their lights reflected in your eyes. I'm back in our world and happy again. The sound of your voice, compassionate embrace... The power in your touch, serenity of stride... The beating of your heart calms down my presence, gracing with eternal peace of mind... Bathing in the sunshine of your arms I'm deeply aware of the melodic stream that has no language...gliding beneath the quiet Heaven of your eyes...

El cielo es una injuria perpetua e insoportable. Las estrellas no me conocen y yo no podré nunca hacer nada de ellas ni contra ellas. Cuando he sabido a cuántos millares de años de luz distan de mí, y cuántos siglos emplea su claridad para llegar a la Tierra, no he hecho más que dar forma aritmética a mi rabia. Yo siento el cielo como algo extraño, remoto, esto es, enemigo. Los cometas que, sin un objeto razonable, arrastran su cola por el infinito, no me dicen nada que me consuele. Las nebulosas, amontonamientos confusos de polvo cósmico, me exasperan como todas las cosas informes no terminadas. En lo que se refiere a los planetas y a los satélites, aduladores extintos que dan vueltas para obtener la limosna de un poco de luz, me causan repugnancia y despecho.

Endless ocean, blue water, dreamy sky, tranquil beach, love in the air, mind fly high.

Es bringt nichts, wenn du in deinem Leben immer nur auf Zehenspitzen herumgehst. Du musst auch etwas riskieren, um etwas zu bekommen. Warum glaubst du, mache ich immer einen Scherz und versuche gut gelaunt zu sein? Eben weil wir nicht viel Zeit haben, weil wir uns nicht den Luxus leisten können, mit unserer Zeit verschwenderisch umzugehen. Und wenn sie schon begrenzt ist, dann sollten wir sie so gut es geht nutzen, Spaß haben und das Beste aus ihr herausholen. Ich habe auch schon zu viele sterben sehen. Aber weißt du, an was ich mich nach all den Jahren am besten erinnern kann, wenn sie schon lange fort sind? An die guten, an die lustigen, an die schönen Dinge. Wenn wir gemeinsam Spaß hatten und Unfug getrieben haben. Das ist es, was wichtig ist und was bleibt. Daher ist das meine Devise: zu leben im Hier und Jetzt – voll und ganz.

Even After All this time The Sun never says to the Earth, "You owe me." Look What happens With a love like that, It lights the whole sky.

Every cloud comes adrifting across the sky to tell us its story!

Feel free to look around, but being as though there aren't any people eighteen or older here, stay off the bed. I'm not allowed to get pregnant this weekend.

Every world needs a sky. Every sky needs a star. Every star needs a galaxy. Every galaxy needs a universe.

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.

Few of us have seen the stars as folk saw them then - our cities and towns cast too much light into the night - but, from the village of Wall, the stars were laid out like worlds or like ideas, uncountable as the trees in a forest or the leaves on a tree.

For lunch, we drove into the hills and parked in the dappled shade of a big sycamore, its powdery white bark like a woman's body against the uncanny blue sky.

First, the wind would rumble in the distance like an approaching river, then he would see grass bend, pressed by a great invisible hand. The dull rumble would rise in pitch to a swishing, lashing exultation, causing stalks to lie flat against the ground while the tougher branches of shrubs held themselves up and shrieked their defiance in the gusts. Then the first drops, cold and heavy, would plummet from the sky and burst on the ground.

For a moment, she thought it natural in a way seeing a plane fall from the sky can seem natural, too. The horror comes later.

Fine, I'll teach you,' 'Besides, there's only so many times a girl wants to fall on her butt in front of the boy she's out to impress.

Flying high with WiFi in the sky.

For this, for you, my heart will burn It whispers to me, what I speak now in turn: If the sun should hide, let it hide; If darkness drain the light, on moonbeams we ride. It matters not, For I am by your side. If the sky should fall, let it fall; If Death open his wings, ignore his dark call; Let the stars fade, let worlds collide; Let the seas boil, let chaos hold back the tide. It matters not, For you are by my side.

From the floor, I see the tops of the Philadelphia skyline out of her window. Staring at it, I realize that the night sky isn't really black, which is the way I've always thought of it. It's actually a dark shade of blue, the darkest possible.

From the sky, everything looked fake. The buildings were doll houses. The cars were Matchbox racers. People scuttled about, but they weren’t really people anymore. Their little lives meant absolutely nothing from this altitude.

From some angles, up is toward the earth and down toward the sky, and everything—people, horses, cathedrals, dreams—is suspended over the ceaseless void, barely hanging on.

Get out of here. Yoda so does not have an English accent!' 'Other than that you're saying I'm a dead ringer?' 'If the shoe fits.' 'Sheesh, I hate tall girls.

Go beyond the sky!

Grand Sky/Grand Prairie Both harbor the vastness of space. One holds the space Of starlight, thunder snow, rock and icy comets, scrolls Of clouds; the other the spaces inside see heart and ovum, Root webs, spider webs, budded blossoms. They lean together tightly day and night, pressing One into the other, each creating the horizon of the other. They exchange themselves. At evening one becomes The steady night in which the other lives. Yet witness How the moon first rises from the body of the prairie Into the height of the sky that then possesses it. Their horizons are persistent illusion.

God begins to paint the clouds in the eastern sky when the mountains butterflies come flying home

Have an appreciating eye to enjoy the beauty of sky.

Happiness lives in every corner of your home and if you are homeless, it lives under the leaves of trees, hiding beneath the sky's cloudiness. All you need to do is to find it with patience.

Grimmig verdrängt sie Slashs Abgang und dreht sich zu ihrem neuen Lehrer um. »War es denn nötig, dass du ihn auf die Palme bringst?« Sein Grinsen wird so breit, dass sie glaubt, seine gesamten Zähne zu sehen. »Ja. Ich muss sagen, es hat mir Spaß gemacht.« Dabei klingt er wie ein kleiner Junge, der gerade über ein neues Spielzeug berichtet, das er gewonnen hat. »Das heißt, ihr zwei könnt euch nicht leiden und du wolltest deine Scherze mit ihm treiben?« Nun blickt er sie empört an. »Aber nein, ich mag Slash. Trotzdem finde ich es witzig, ihn etwas zu erhitzen, wie man so schön sagt. Einmal haben Sky und ich sogar gewettet, wer ihn zuerst zum Ausrasten bringen kann.« Bei seinen Worten lacht er schallend, führt seine Erinnerung aber nicht näher aus. »In der Zwischenzeit haben wir eine Strichliste, um unsere Anzahl hin und wieder zu vergleichen.« »Das ist ein Scherz, oder?« Melo zuckt feixend mit den Schultern. »Er braucht das. Ein wenig Feuer und Aufregung tut unserem Slash ganz gut.«

Greet the world. Acknowledge the sky. Approach the stars. Embrace the universe.

Hair tangled with the wind Sun kissed face Lover of the forest the sea the sky and anything wild and free She’s a gypsy goddess.

Healthy Earth Equals Healthy Inhabitants

Hazel, like nearly all wild animals, was unaccustomed to look up at the sky. What he thought of as the sky was the horizon, usually broken by trees and hedges.

He feels himself buried in those two infinities, the ocean and the sky, at one and the same time: the one is a tomb; the other is a shroud.

He fell on his knees on that barren ground, Staring at the sky. And the sky opened up for him by raining. With the rain, every drop of his tear was washed down filling the cracks beneath. nobody got to see his pain and agony. And yet again he remained a mystery that was never solved.

He never looks away, searching my eyes for truth. His reaction has left my heart pounding, shocked at how quick he was to dismiss any fault I may have had. I wish he was just as quick to dismiss his own faults, but he isn't.

He looked upwards at the brilliant blue sky. It was high noon because the sun was right overhead. The clouds danced around slowly, while drifting across the sky. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun glowing orange on his eyelids. It was a wonderful feeling.

Here in Alpha City, we have a common saying: “What we call ‘sky’ is merely a figment of our narrative.” The most dreamy-eyed among us seem to adorn themselves and their aspirations in that proverb and you’ll see it everywhere: in advertisements on the sides of streetcars and auto-rickshaws, spelled out in studs and rhinestones on designer jackets, emblazoned in the intricate designs of facial tattoos—even painted on city walls by putrid vandals and inspiring street artists. There is something glorious about kneading out into the doughy firmament the depth and breadth of one’s own universe, in rendering the contours of a sky whose limits are predicated only upon the bounds of one’s own imagination. The fact of the matter is that we cannot see the natural sky at all here. It is something like a theoretical mathematical expression: like the square-root of ‘negative one’—certainly it could be said to have a purpose for existing, but to cast eyes upon it, in its natural quantity, would be something akin to casting one’s eyes upon the raw elements comprising our everyday sustenance. How many of us have even borne close witness to the minute chemical compounds that react to lend battery power to our portable electronics? The sky is indeed such a concealed fixture now. It is fair to say that we have purged our memories of its true face and so we can only approximate a canvas and project our desires upon it to our heart’s dearest fancy. The most cynical among us would ostensibly declare it an unavoidable tragedy, but perhaps even these hardened individuals could not remember the naked sky well enough to know if what they were missing was something worthwhile. Perhaps, it’s cynical of me to say so! In any case, we have our searchlights pointed upwards and crisscrossing that expanse of heavens as though to make some sensational and profane joke of ourselves to the surrounding universe. We beam already video images of beauty pageants and dancing contests with smiling mannequins who look like buffoons. And so, the face of space cloaks itself behind our light pollution—in this respect, our mirrored sidewalks and lustrous streets do little to help our cause—and that face remains hidden from us in its jeering ridicule, its mocking laughter at this inexorable farce of human existence.

Her gaze traveled across the western sky that was dotted with clouds and was held by the wintry looking sun, so pure, so lovely, and so impossible to touch. Sheila felt that that was how her love was - Out of reach, unquestionably warm, and as certain as the celestial ball.

He slept under the sky, holding her hand, filling the gaps between her fingers and losing himself inside the soul in the course of counting the stars, she was hiding inside her eyes.

He stared up at the moon, which looked like a giant hole in the sky, letting light through to the other side.

He stopped and leaned against a pole and looked up at the deaf and swollen sky. It was a movement of dark shapes, a hurrying, a running. He closed his eyes. ("Hunger")

...He sat back on his heels and watched the stars one by one cut their way through onrushing darkness, till all was reversed, day was night, and the blackness glittered with all the desert's sands, each a tiny flame beyond the bounds of time.

He's seeing the actual Milky Way streaked across the sky. The whole of his entire galaxy, right there in front of him. Billions and billions of stars. Billions and billions of worlds. All of them, all of those seemingly endless possibilities, not fictional, but real, out there, existing, right now. There is so much more out there than just the world he knows, so much more than his tiny Washington town, so much more than even London. Or England. Or hell, for that matter. So much more that he'll never see. So much more that he'll never get to. So much that he can only glimpse enough of to know that it's forever beyond his reach.

He started hammering the ground with all his might and the sky opened up, raining heavily on him. He looked at the sky, heard that thunder and saw that lightning. He laughed maniacally before raising the hammer again.

He stayed under the fluorescent street light until the sounds of traffic and nightlife faded into silence, and only then did he look up into the night sky, the way he usually did when he was looking for answers.

He was in a fairy kingdom where everything was possible. He looked up at the sky. And the sky was a fairy realm like the earth. It was clearing, and over the tops of the trees clouds were swiftly sailing as if unveiling the stars.

He went to sleep as soon as they'd gone, waking in the middle of the night and walking outside into a sky whose stars hung so low he felt he strolled among them and he could see indeed, so clear the air, the very flames of their inner workings.