Best 2219 quotes in «sky quotes» category

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    To everyone who kept staring at the horizon, it always seemed like the earth and sky met and kissed each other, the very thought of that seemed to make every single thing in the universe beautiful. But only the sky and earth knew the distance between them, only they knew the fact that they could never be together.

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    To me sometimes a mute sky is more expressive than the roaring sea

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    Tonight the sky is the color of my heart, bleeding crimson for my love

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    Tonight I miss you like the sky misses his moon; a delicate epiphany growing on grass. I serenade the breeze into dancing a cha cha cha; the mountains echo in the background. September sky never looked more charming; or the sublime petals of the rose looked so graceful.

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    To see the universe clearly, you need not only a clear sky but also a clear mind!

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    Tracy had never been so conscious of the sky above the earth, the dangerous clouds that gathered there, the way humans lived beneath such grandeur and threat every moment of their lives.

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    Under a night’s sky Filled with a hundred billion stars Is it so crazy to believe Our paths were destined to cross?

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    Twilight was laying claim to the cité, and the sky was a deepening shade of lavender, spangled with stars and fleecy clouds the colour of plums.

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    -Un mundo de nuncas bajo un cielo eterno.

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    True love has no boundaries. It is vast as the ocean and limitless as the sky,!

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    Two things I ask of my God today. That my faith be hoisted high like a kite up in the sky and my fear be buried deeply like a carcass into the soil.

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    Ugh! I absolutely hate lust. Hate. It. Every fiber of my being knows he’s not a good person, yet my body doesn't seem to give a shit at all.

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    Upon scanning the sky, you don't really know when one color turns into another hue. And that's sort of how I fell for you. No definitive line or moment, just a slow blend of time inked by the earth's unexplainable.

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    Usually, when I dream of flying I am simply flapping my arms and somehow I lift off and glide through the sky. Last night was different. I missed you so much and my yearning was so powerful that I sprouted wings like a phoenix and soared to reach you. And now I finally understand: if you see lovers on a roof, do not worry. Surely, love has metamorphosed them.

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    Victor patted my hand. 'I like you, Sky. You're a fighter.' 'I am, aren't I? Hear that, Zed? No more bambi comparisons. I'm a Rottweiler -with a temper.' 'A very small Rottweiler,' said Zed, still not convinced.

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    Wander with intent into a garden glorious. Walk with double brisk upon edenic paths. Flee the cursing fear that lights upon your eye. Seize the twisted dream that strangles earth and sky.

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    Was the sky always this shade of magenta?

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    Watching them was like watching the sunset and the sunrise, equally beautiful in different ways.

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    Under a sky that hasn't been blue for weeks.

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    we are burning like a chicken wing left on the grill of an outdoor barbecue we are unwanted and burning we are burning and unwanted we are an unwanted burning as we sizzle and fry to the bone the coals of Dante's 'Inferno' spit and sputter beneath us and above the sky is an open hand and the words of wise men are useless it's not a nice world, a nice world it's not ...

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    We are in the process of finding out what filling the sky with hundreds of thousands of satellites does to all life on Earth.

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    We are angrier with the sky than with our actions.

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    We are spirits deceived by the sky to create light and trade our souls to the sun but fail to become galaxies when it's dark

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    We'd be trying to touch the sky from the bottom of the ocean. I realize that if we boosted one another, maybe we'd get a little closer.

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    we both mistake solitude for safety find comfort in wishing ourselves untouchable you a cloud & i fog daily i remind myself every life must be s e e d e d with fingerprints i say a prayer to an unnameable god the constant motion rotating constellations across a sky that will always be my favorite blue the cactus that has & will continue to bloom every spring of my life & hope it's enough to find you whistling a song only birds sing in morning's memory waiting for me to be present in our living

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    We cannot wait for the other shoe to drop, when the road becomes unendurably bumpy. If the aura of truth starts to wane and the light of the sky begins to splinter, only resilience can settle things. (“Steaming ahead”)

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    We look up, if only to see if we're likely to be rained on. The sky calls attention to itself, whether scored by herons, cranes, or wires; illumined by sunsets, Perseids, or ballparks; broken up by the twigwork of oaks or maples, painted in rainbows, or just primed in the pale gray of my '52 Ford. If we are truthful, the sky is never neutral.

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    We may be lost stars in an ocean of constellations on a dark night but do remember we both belong to the same sky. I breathe the same air that you breathe, we both look at the same luminosity above us. You are the music and I am the lyrics.

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    Well the sky always seemed like another ocean to me, you know? Like we live between two incredible oceans, and we'll never get to the bottom of either of them.

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    We're fascinated by things we can't figure out, by the things that don't have a right or wrong answer. Even when we can't explain them, we need to make some sort of sense out of them - create lists, find connections, map it out. Maybe that's why, when we can't seem to figure out all sorts of other more commonplace mysteries (like why we all keep looking at the sky as if it might talk to us), we still need to try. We think maybe it's a lot like love, that need to make sense of the sky. We don't know why we need it, we can't explain it when it happens or when it doesn't, but we need it like we need air or food. So we keep looking for it.

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    Were my love the sky, it would be boundless. Were my love the sea, it would be ceaseless. Were my love the world, it would be limitless. Were my love the universe, it would be endless.

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    What a beautiful night, the skies are filled with stars twinkling in the sky. What a starry starry night.

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    What a night it was! The jagged masses of heavy dark cloud were rolling at intervals from horizon to horizon, and thin white wreaths covered the stars. Through all the rush of the cloud river the moon swam, breasting the waves and disappearing again in the darkness. I walked up and down, drinking in the beauty of the quiet earth and the changing sky. The night was absolutely silent. Nothing seemed to be abroad. There was no scurrying of rabbits, or twitter of the half-asleep birds. And though the clouds went sailing across the sky, the wind that drove them never came low enough to rustle the dead leaves in the woodland paths. Across the meadows I could see the church tower standing out black and grey against the sky. ("Man Size In Marble")

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    What can we expect from an empty shell Where many hearts of pearl once beat to dwell Waves fail to break hard layer's bond of love Wailing shore sends memoir to the sky above

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    What did you say, Gram? About there being no church out here?" "I said that the sky was the roof of my cathedral and the desert was its floor and any time I paid attention, I could feel a higher power all around me.

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    We watch the sky, we watch it alive and we watch it die, looking for signs. We live like wind, with hope in wings that we will get there, never sooner or never later, but at a right time.

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    We were at sixty thousand feet. You’re thirty percent lighter up there.

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    We will join our palms together, fingers intertwined in each other, and look at the stars in the night sky!

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    What caused me to undertake the catalog was the nebula I discovered above the southern horn of Taurus on September 12, 1758, while observing the comet of that year. ... This nebula had such a resemblance to a comet in its form and brightness that I endeavored to find others, so that astronomers would not confuse these same nebulae with comets just beginning to shine. I observed further with suitable refractors for the discovery of comets, and this is the purpose I had in mind in compiling the catalog. After me, the celebrated Herschel published a catalog of 2000 which he has observed. This unveiling the sky, made with instruments of great aperture, does not help in the perusal of the sky for faint comets. Thus my object is different from his, and I need only nebulae visible in a telescope of two feet [focal length].

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    What is it about the Heavens that draws us to look up? For generations, centuries, (millennia?) it seems we are drawn to look up for answers, comfort in times of despair, with pleas for help, when we are in need of grace, and to give thanks.

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    When glance turns To a sky-blue clear day, When the purplr-red sun Sinks low at sirocco, Here nature bestows glory, Joy, sound to eye and heart, And we find in color lore, The universal truth. - - - GER: Wenn der Blick an heitern Tagen Sich zur Himmelsbläue lenkt, Beim Sirok der Sonnenwagen Purpurrot sich niedersenkt, Da gebt der Natur die Ehre, Froh, an Aug und Herz gesund, Und erkennt der Farbenlehre Allgemeinen, ewigen Grund. Zahme Xenien VI.

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    What were we talking before I was so rudely interrupted by a flying citrus ?

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    Whenever they met, the air crackled and sparks flew in the sky.

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    When he touches me, the sky and the earth switch places.

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    When I was a child, I used to look at the sky and wonder how were stars fixed on the canopy and why didn't they fall on Earth. I also wondered why they disappeared in day time. When I grew up, all my questions got answered, but I lost my innocence.

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    When the night arrives, I often look up at the bright sky only to close my eyes and see the light within. Everything above so is below.

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    When reality hurts, make sure to soar above the dream-stained sky!

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    ...when she wakes up, there is silence, as though the day has held its breath.

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    When the laughing stops, we’re looking out at the farm, over Valley Drive, up those craggy mountains and the biggest, starriest sky I have ever seen. I bet that someday, when someone says the words New Mexico, this will be the image in my mind. This night. This sky. And Wendy.

    • sky quotes
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    When the sun goes down, melting away his caresses into the sky which consonants with the ocean, lively colors are scattered through the deep pale depth during some short sensuous instants. Later, as by art of magic, light is consumed into the infinite horizon giving space to the poked voidness and its full-cristal-covered vastness. Then, to mystify the night, a marvelous and alluring sentinel rests next to us through the vivid night, just until the next prismatic fest arrives with its celebrating aperture.