Best 2219 quotes in «sky quotes» category

A lovely day ------------------- The birds are flying The kids are dancing It's a lovely day! For ice-creams & buns You have to pay I say it's a lovely day! The sun is high In dreams we can touch the sky I say it's a lovely day! The kids are playing Their mother is saying what a great play! I say it's a lovely day!

& may you shine on in the sky with diamonds & dreams...do it for the suit behind the platform, who only wished he were free. have strength in freedom.

And back up they would go, not knowing where or when they would be able to land again.

And if I consume another mortal’s flesh, will I like god before me, shit a million stars upon the naked, wretched sky?

And I kept thinking about how sky is a singular noun, as if it's one thing. But the sky isn't one thing. The sky is everything. And last night, it was enough.

And there I was at night, chasing after the full moon behind the clouds like a mad man in search of the reflection of the light of love in another person, without daring to light up the spark of light that I had left within myself. It was nowhere to be seen, but I felt it was out there somewhere. I've surely seen it a couple of days ago up in the sky and my eyes couldn't have lied to me, it was so beautiful, or so it appeared to be. I guess I have to stop stalking what can't be seen for awhile and let the light of the full moon find its way through my messed up soul. Maybe it's time to go to sleep and trust that another sunrise will renew what the full moon couldn't clear away tonight. During all that time, I might've not found the light of the moon, but I rested deeply with the sound of the raindrops, while gazing at the quiet river flowing slowly. What a crucial moment to be alive!

And there I was, a woman who yearned so hard for the sky there had to be stars in my blood, yet I was stuck in Heliodor City, missing it all.

And then I realize: this isn’t dirty water falling from the sky. It is—literally—blood. I look up, and a droplet of blood splashes directly into my eye. I curse, rubbing my face, trying to get the blood out, but it’s everywhere, it’s like trying to dry off in the middle of the ocean. Shielding my face as best I can, I stare up into the sky. I am in the center of a cyclone. Giant white clouds swirl like a spiraling galaxy above me, the eye a tiny dark speck. The storm rages, throwing out bloody rain like punches, the wind so vicious it tears my clothes and cuts my skin. Representative Belles’s mind is swirling with dark thoughts—bloody thoughts—and they have created the biggest storm I have ever seen. I have to stop the cyclone. I have to get him into a peaceful reverie, something that he can hold on to while I root around his brain, looking for answers. I focus all of my concentration on stopping the bloody rain. The drops come slower and slower. I take a deep breath, imagining the clouds breaking up, spinning into fluffy bits of cotton-candy like clouds. I don’t open my eyes until the sounds of beating rain disappear and I can feel the warmth of the Mediterranean sun on my face.

And the skies: in one day the sky could travel from green at dawn to a noon-time blue so severe it was almost black to hot silver in the afternoon to roiling burgundy at sunset. Just before night it flowered in yawning, imperial violets. Wedges of mauve, cauldrons of peach - skies more like drugs than colors.

Anytime that you look up to the clear sky and see colors in it, you should be suspecting that you are looking at a flow of energy through the sky that is causing a gas to glow.

A radiant full moon of silver hangs in the black sky, between the veils of misty clouds.

As long as we can see the same sky, breathe the same air, step on the same planet, then you and I are not impossible.

Around them, sky and air wove the ancient song of the meeting place of earth and sea—wave-rush on the shore, gulls mewing and sobbing. No more bells, except a last dying peal from Fara.

As dawn leaks into the sky it edits out the stars like excess punctuation marks, deleting asterisks and periods, commas, and semi-colons, leaving only unhinged thoughts rotating and pivoting, and unsecured words.

A silent velvet footstep filled me, unwelcome yet so needed. You finally found my hidden shore with grains of time and ocean of the most secret secrets, violet and red; left a trail of deep blue footsteps on my glowing beach of soul, and no matter how many times tides wash the golden sand anew, your prints can never be erased. Each one a shining star in my quiet Universe...

A skydiver, arrogant in his ability to navigate the heavens, rejects his fragile state and calls himself a God of the skies.

As light splinters into darkness, new thoughts may take over in the mind and allow upbeat views to gain power. Thus and so, thoughtfulness readily opens a blistering sky in the faltering shadow of unawareness. ("Absence of Desire")

As much as I would like to know my path, a part of me is telling me that it is better not too know too many details about the end destination or the obstacles on the journey. If I can only see as much as my headlights will show me, I can travel safely through any kind of weather, knowing that there's life through every sunrise and sunset and when the light is not shining as I'm used to, I can always assure myself that the night sky will show me many fulfilled dreams and hopes portrayed through shining stars, and every now and then reveal me a part of the moon which reflects that everlasting light, whether fully or not, making me aware that the shadow will always have its' mysterious beauty as well in the process of underlying a part of the truth. So let's continue like this, with our eyes set out far away in the galaxy, but with our feet firm in the ground from which we have been raised. Only so will we be able to ground ourselves deeply and reach immeasurable heights, like a tree deeply rooted in mother Earth that stretches its' branches up to the heavens.

A star-spangled sky and you were looking the other way, the night beckoned and waited and you waited for the day.

A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.

As long as there are stars in the sky, I will love you.

As the sun knows; even the sky is not the limit...

At sunset you see a mix of humanity's regrets and some wishes coming true, thus the exploding and contrasting colours. On Sunset

A sunflower field is like a sky with a thousand suns.

As you look up to see the stars,keep watching the ground with your feet.

At the edge you will always remember me, at the edge you will last be remembered, where sanity and insanity come together, for the time, then separates. Like leaves on October trees, that color the world, but for a moment, then leave. At the edge, where life losses its edginess, and thoughts we will become one, someday. At the edge the sun drops, the ring falls, and senses of raindrops climb upwards to the gray sky.

At the end of the day…we are anchoring into the peaceful lagoon, smiling at the majestic sun and its flirting rays, slowly slipping into the glittering ballroom of immense night skies, sipping on the platinum moon liquor under the blues of rippling waves kissing my golden foot hanging over the board of gently rocking boat, and diving into the bed of galaxies whispering magical stories of their eternal lives connecting souls…till the dawn…

... back then the sky seemed so vast. And now the sky above me... is low, and narrow, and heavy.

A writer creates wings of words and lets them fly in the sky of readers' minds.

Be calm...calm as a calm lagoon, then you will look beautiful as a beautiful calm lagoon crowned by the Moon and sheltered by the brilliance of the stars reclaiming your royalty of regal life...

Before you came, things were as they should be: the sky was the dead-end of sight, the road was just a road, wine merely wine. Now everything is like my heart, a color at the edge of blood: the grey of your absence, the color of poison, of thorns, the gold when we meet, the season ablaze, the yellow of autumn, the red of flowers, of flames, and the black when you cover the earth with the coal of dead fires. And the sky, the road, the glass of wine? The sky is a shirt wet with tears, the road a vein about to break, and the glass of wine a mirror in which the sky, the road, the world keep changing. Don’t leave now that you’re here— Stay. So the world may become like itself again: so the sky may be the sky, the road a road, and the glass of wine not a mirror, just a glass of wine.

Before falling to the ground, the rain has touched the sky. (Avant de tomber au sol, La pluie a touché le ciel)

Be like the sun who fell in love with the moon and shared all his light.

Behold the azure sea in front of you, the turquoise sky above you, the amber mountain beneath your feet, and the golden daisy in your hands. How are you not the richest person on earth?

Beneath the foggy sky the glowing sea is hazy, the soft light of a scarf over a lamp.

Be like the sun who fell in love with the moon and shared all his light. Be like the moon who became a lighthouse to guide others in the night. Be like the mountains who were once hills that wanted to kiss the sky. Be like the trees who are firmly grounded but dream up high. Be like the waves who play and tickle each other endlessly. Be like the children who enjoy and live in the present entirely. Be like the God who equally loves everything and everyone. And be like the love who brought compassion when she visited the sun.

Be the celebrators, celebrate! Already there is too much—the flowers have bloomed, the birds are singing, the sun is there in the sky—celebrate it! You are breathing and you are alive and you have consciousness, celebrate it!

Be the sun in someone’s dark sky.

between you and i, i found just the sky, a sky with a million of stars, but i can see just the moon, not because it's the biggest one but it's the closest and the shiniest between all. so i keep talking to that moon at night, hoping one day will talk with me, before the sun come back or the storm hide all.

Beyond the sky, there is a ceaseless space, much the same as life.

Birds were created to record everything. They were not designed just to be beautiful jewels in the sky, but to serve as the eyes of heaven.

Bố không thể tin rằng mình đang rời bỏ Kabul. Bố học ở đây, kiếm được công việc đầu tiên ở đây, trở thành một người bố ở thành phố này. Thật lạ lùng khi nghĩ đến chuyện chẳng bao lâu bố sẽ ngủ dưới một bầu trời thành phố khác.

Blood is everywhere.. Vultures take shelter beneath the tanks; for the fumed sky is unsafe for their avian flight to prey on the Palestinian flesh.

Black and white, vacuum of cosmos vis-à-vis occupancy of skies.

Bonnie saw ropes hanging loose, poles falling away, tree-tops sinking beneath her. As they rose, the sun rose with them. Its warmth turned the dark skin of the fiery balloon midnight blue. They flew straight up. Above them, the sweet, clear music of the lonely pipe called to them. Then the smooth sky puckered into cloth-of-blue and drew aside. They passed straight through...

Breathe as long as the sky is alive

Breath (from the book Blue Bridge) Whispering to myself With every step I take, Trying out names, for I know There is something yet to be called ….. I know it, something up ahead Just around the bend Or over the rise – A bird taking to the sky From the edge of a jagged cliff – A bird floating outwards In silence ……. A silence Waiting for a footstep To crunch on stones, For a voice to fling upward Through sharp sunlight With a name…… calling Before the bird could call Before the bird called. Oh the bird was there alright And sure it took flight When it heard me approach But it broke my heart With a mighty croak! So I’m sitting here playing With a purple flower Slender stem, no leaves Purple fizz – And it’s quiet again. I am still I am nothing And the hill Is a long, long slope Down, down, down to the sea Far below. I could roll I could run I could scream But I am nothing. A cool wind blows And the light is naked and nameless And the rocks are faces of angels And the bird in the sky wheels And cries to forget the earth And its ancient bones – Oh, sensual pain – Wings…. Wings…. Wings, Singing wings. If only I could begin To describe the emptiness Which fills me to the brim With new breath I might almost lose my name And take instead a feather for my soul.

Burada olduğu için ona kızgındım, ama en çok da burada olmasını istediğim için kendime kızıyordum. Ona bağırmayı ve gitmesini söylemeyi ne kadar istesem de, kendimi beni biraz daha sıkmasını isterken buluyordum. Kollarını etrafıma dolayıp beni hiç bırakmamasını istiyordum, çünkü ait olduğu yer burasıydı ve beni yine terk etmesinden korkuyordum.

Bu beni öldürüyor, çünkü senin için hissettiklerimi bilmeden bir gün daha geçirmeni istemiyorum. Ama sana âşık olduğumu söylemeye hazır değilim, çünkü âşık değilim. Henüz değil. Ama bu hissettiğim her neyse hoşlanmaktan çok daha fazla. Çok daha fazla. Son birkaç haftadır bunu anlamaya çalışıyordum. Neden tarif edebileceğim başka bir kelime olmadığını düşünüyordum. Sana tam olarak ne hissettiğimi söylemeyi istiyorum, ama lanet olası sözlükte hoşlanmak ve sevmek arasındaki noktayı tarif edebilecek bir kelime yok, ve o kelimeye ihtiyacım var. İhtiyacım var, çünkü söylediğimi duymanı istiyorum.” Yaşamak. Kelime sanki hep orada, sözlükte ait olduğu yerde, hoşlanmak ve sevmek arasına saklı kalmıştı. “Yaşamak,” dedim. "Bu kelimeyi kullanabilirsin." "Seni yaşıyorum, Sky" dedi dudaklarıma doğru. "Seni doya doya yaşıyorum.

But the sky is interesting, it changes all the time.