Best 2219 quotes in «sky quotes» category

Adolescence impelled her eyes to stay at an even keel, to deal with the ground before flickering to the heavens. Night became not dotted with fairy clouds of celestial brilliance, but simply the time when the sun was out of sight.

A few flat clouds folded themselves like crepes over fillings of apricot sky. Pompadours of supper-time smoke billowed from chimneys, separating into girlish pigtails as the breeze combed them out, above the slate rooftops. Chestnut blossoms, weary from having been admired all day, wore faint smiles of anticipation.

Afraid even to look at the sky The birds of cage do seldom fly

After that there was silence for a while, only the sound of the shovel biting into the earth and the hissing splatter of the loose dirt. They stood him up, his back to the well. In the dark, desperate sky, just above the scalloped line the treetops made, three stars formed a pleading little constellation. No one looked at them, no one cared. This was the time for death, not the time for mercy. ("The Number's Up")

Ağzıma o kadar odaklanmıştı ki, okuduğumun tek kelimesini bile duymadığını düşünüyordum. Kitabı kapatıp karnıma koydum. Kitabı kapattığımın bile farkında olduğunu sanmıyordum. "Neden konuşmayı kestin?" dedi, ne ifadesi değişmiş ne de bakışlarını dudaklarımdan ayırmıştı. "Konuşmak mı?" diye sordum merakla. "Holder, kitap okuyorum. Arada fark var. Ve görünüşe bakılırsa, hiç dikkat etmiyorsun." Gözlerimin içine bakıp sırıttı. "Ah, dikkat ediyorum," dedi. "Dudaklarına. Ağzından çıkan kelimelere dikkat etmemiş olabilirim, ama dudaklarına kesinlikle dikkat ediyordum.

Ako se ikada budeš osjećala izgubljeno, samo pogledaj na nebo i vidjet ćeš nas kako svjetlucamo zajedno!

All of a sudden we were out of the lot and on the highway next to the mountains, flying. I put my hand out the window, and then I put my head out. I felt my hair blow behind me and the air rush into me, and I forgot for a moment to worry about how I was supposed to be. Because I was perfect right then. Everything was. And Sky was a perfect driver. Not scary. Just steady. And fast. I wanted the music to last forever.

All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide; but a hidden star can still be smiling at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling

All she wanted was someone to know her heart the way sky does.

All trees and birds sky and stars bosoms and bangles were seeing everything.

All the light had fallen away from the world, with only the fog illuminated now. Even the stars struggled against the black, managing only the slightest pinpricks of twinkles through a gloom that was both everywhere and nowhere at once. It wasn't the dark of night; it was the tenebrous shadow of bad omens.

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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")

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...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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...

Be the sun in someone’s dark sky.

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

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?

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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