Best 2219 quotes in «sky quotes» category

I will meet you in the light, in the morning one, when raindrops fall on your mild skin and your blue eyes sparkle better than the sky. (fragment from "I will meet you then", chapter Hope)

I wish I had a brush that could paint the whole sky and turn every morning into night. I wish I could always sleep next to you in the never ending night and hold your hand, watching the reflection of all the stars in your eyes, while you smile and watch them in the sky with wonder.

I wiped my hands on my apron and went to the window. Outside, the prairie reached out and touched the places where the sky came down. Though the winter was nearly over, there were patches of snow and ice everywhere. I looked at the long dirt road that crawled across the plains, remembering the morning that Mama had died, cruel and sunny. They had come for her in a wagon and taken her away to be buried. And then the cousins and aunts and uncles had come and tried to fill up the house. But they couldn’t.

Like a splendid mosaic of myriad colors, she in all her hues of sensitivity would paint her feelings in your mind’s gray skies. She was the butterfly making you run after her. She was the Zahir, a mirage that transcended borders and time-zones.

Listen to the sunset...see its pretty hue... When you see it, think of me...and I'll think of you...

Listen to what the sky is telling you.

Listen I have moved on... I cannot be waiting for your sun When I have to bring illumination to my own sky Of what purpose does drifting have If not to square the circle I have lived recklessly enough to understand the signals from the stars Maybe the fault is indeed in our dreams That yours and mine belong to two different skies!

Listen I have moved on... I cannot be waiting for your sun When I have to bring in illumination to my own sky Of what purpose does drifting have If not to make circles inside squares I have lived recklessly enough to understand the signals from the stars Maybe the fault is indeed in our dreams That yours and mine belong to two different skies!

Looking up at that starry sky gave him the creeps: it was too big, too black. It was all too possible to imagine it turning blood-red, all too possible to imagine a Face forming in lines of fire.

Look', she said. It's going to be a beautiful sunset. Shall we stay out and watch it?' 'All right,' I said, and we stayed there on the lawn for quite awhile, arms around each other's waists, first watching the bright colors come up in the sky, then watching them fade to ashes of gray.

Look up at the sky and be grateful for being a tiny little fragment of a beautiful blue planet.

Love is a selfless service to mankind like a showcase done by the twinkling stars in beautiful nightly sky.

Love me like today is the last day we can see stars in the sky, let us sleep under them and throw ourselves into the oblivion and never again reach out for reality.

Man ist am Himmel umgeben von einer Scheinwelt, die eigentlich schon längst Geschichte ist.

Mahtab looked out of the window at the moon clearing the rooftops, bathing everything around in its silver light. She sighed, envying Nasim's freedom. For just like Mahtab's namesake, as the moonlight was beholden to the sun, she was beholden to her family.

Man is the sky turned inside out.

Many will point at you to say what they think you are. A few will say what they are. The art of the color of the sky is based on the few; the many, there are just too many of them; would you like to remain alone at the end of your life, following someone else's sense of certainty?

Mine is a quest, for a mouthful of skies. !

May you cross the sky united in the dark, May you rise in Iightland, the place in which you shine! Horus, go proclaim to the powers of the east And their spirits: This Unas comes, a spirit indestructible, Whom he wishes to live will live, Whom he wishes to die will die! UNAS PYRAMID TEXTS Utterance 217 Sarcophagus Chamber, South Wall The king joins the sun-god

Meet me there, where the sea meets the sky...

Mind is the second sky on earth, full of mysteries!

My body is a damn traitor.

My eyes trail from his hand to the tattoo written in small script across his forearm. Hopeless

my dear, I have nothing to say. my heart burns like the evening sky.

My heart can feel the softness of a star Only when the moon stays afar I lay my mind on the pillow of sky Where sleep dares not ever to pry

...my heart is a desolate field over which geese vee, the sky turns and the days lie fallow...

My favourite conversations are those with the universe, I speak all that I am and the most beautiful response flies a shooting star across the sky, it's proof ~ vibrations of light have the capacity to change our world.

My love, you are driving the entire world mad. The nightingales are committing suicide one by one out of jealousy of your voice. The roses took one glance at your beauty and folded themselves from shame. The trees now only whisper your name and the sky hasn’t stopped crying since you looked up. Have pity on us, my love. We have already broken all the mirrors and glass out of fear that you will forget us and fall in love with yourself once you see what we all cannot stop seeing.

My locker seems to have become the hub for sticky notes and nasty letters, none of which I ever see actually being placed on or in my locker. I really don’t get what people gain out of doing things like this if they don’t even own up to it. Like the note that was stuck to my locker this morning. All it said was, “ Whore.” Really? Where’s the creativity in that? They couldn’t back it up with an interesting story? Maybe a few details of my indiscretion? If I have to read this shit every day, the least they could do is make it interesting. If I was going to stoop so low as to leave an unfounded note on someone’s locker,I’d at least have the courtesy of entertaining whoever reads it in the process. I’d write something interesting like, “I saw you in bed with my boyfriend last night. I really don’t appreciate you getting massage oil on my cucumbers. Whore.” I laugh and it feels odd, laughing out loud at my own thoughts. I look around and no one is left in the hallway but me. Rather than rip the sticky notes off of my locker like I probably should, I take out my pen and make them a little more creative. You’re welcome, passersby.

My mind is the sun, and my heart is the moon. In the sky between them, there I am. Cristen Rodgers

Ne hissettiğini çok iyi biliyordum, çünkü aynı acıyı paylaşıyorduk. Onun hissettiklerini ben de hissediyordum. Aynı şekilde, benim hissettiklerimi de o hissediyordu. İki insan bir olduğunda olan şey buydu: artık sadece sevgiyi paylaşmakla kalmazlardı. Acıyı, üzüntüyü ve kederi de paylaşırlardı.

Nature is the guardian of Africa. While the sun lights the African sky in day time, the moon begs the world to help her lighting Africa in the night

No, Sky. You didn't tell her everything…you told you everything. Those things happened to you, not to someone else. They happened to Hope. They happened to Sky. They happened to the best friend that I loved all those years ago, and they happened to the best friend I love who’s looking back at me right now.

No, I mean earlier. Where’d you go? You weren't here with me because no, nothing happened. I could see on your face that something was wrong, so I didn't do it. But now you need to think long and hard about where you were inside that head of yours, because you were panicked. You were hysterical and I need to know what it was that took you there so I can make sure you never go back.

No.” The word burned in his mouth and sizzled on his tongue. “A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand.” His last words were with finality, his eyes no longer sparked. “I think, I too have known autumn too long.

Nothing else matters. Slowly all my surroundings are blurring. I look up; the sky is shrinking, and the world is shrinking. All that is left is us cruising through together.

No matter how dark your cloud is; sun in you will always outshine this darkness

None of them knew the color of the sky.

No puedes enfadarte con un final real. Algunos de ellos son feos, son los falsos felices para siempre los que deberían enojarte.

Now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turnin' gold And like the sky my soul is also turnin' Turnin' from the past, at last and all I've left behind

Now there were stars overhead, hanging like frozen spears of light, stabbing the night sky.

Oh my gosh, don’t you both look pretty!” We looked like rejects from the auditions for The Sound of Music. “I will have to buy them – they are meant to be yours!” Karla waved her credit card around like a wand. “What a shame they didn’t have one in green for me. But then, it is a young girl’s style. I would’ve looked foolish.

O günkü davranışım yüzünden Breckin özrü hak ediyordu." "Peki ben hak etmiyor muydum?" "Hayır," dedi kesin bir tavırla. "Sen kelimeleri hak etmiyorsun, Sky. Sen harekete geçmeyi hak ediyorsun.

Oh, I could let the world go by, Its loud new wonders and its wars, BUt how will I give up the sky When winter dusk is set with stars? And I could let the cities go, Their changing customs and their creeds,– In silver on the jewel-weeds!

Oh, I could let the world go by, Its loud new wonders and its wars, BUt how will I give up the sky When winter dusk is set with stars? And I could let the cities go, Their changing customs and their creeds,– But oh, the summer rains that blow In silver on the jewel-weeds!

Oh, there are unrepeated words, Who ever said wasted more than he should. Inexhaustible only is the blue Of sky and generosity of God.

On a long flight, after periods of crisis and many hours of fatigue, mind and body may become disunited until at times they seem completely different elements, as though the body were only a home with which the mind has been associated but by no means bound. Consciousness grows independent of the ordinary senses. You see without assistance from the eyes, over distances beyond the visual horizon. There are moments when existence appears independent even of the mind. The importance of physical desire and immediate surroundings is submerged in the apprehension of universal values. For unmeasurable periods, I seem divorced from my body, as though I were an awareness spreading out through space, over the earth and into the heavens, unhampered by time or substance, free from the gravitation that binds to heavy human problems of the world. My body requires no attention. It's not hungry. It's neither warm or cold. It's resigned to being left undisturbed. Why have I troubled to bring it here? I might better have left it back at Long Island or St. Louis, while the weightless element that has lived within it flashes through the skies and views the planet. This essential consciousness needs no body for its travels. It needs no plane, no engine, no instruments, only the release from flesh which circumstances I've gone through make possible. Then what am I – the body substance which I can see with my eyes and feel with my hands? Or am I this realization, this greater understanding which dwells within it, yet expands through the universe outside; a part of all existence, powerless but without need for power; immersed in solitude, yet in contact with all creation? There are moments when the two appear inseparable, and others when they could be cut apart by the merest flash of light. While my hand is on the stick, my feet on the rudder, and my eyes on the compass, this consciousness, like a winged messenger, goes out to visit the waves below, testing the warmth of water, the speed of wind, the thickness of intervening clouds. It goes north to the glacial coasts of Greenland, over the horizon to the edge of dawn, ahead to Ireland, England, and the continent of Europe, away through space to the moon and stars, always returning, unwillingly, to the mortal duty of seeing that the limbs and muscles have attended their routine while it was gone.

On all sides of us, spread out below, are little white lights and black pockets of trees. Stars in the sky, stars on the ground. It’s hard to tell where the sky ends and the earth begins. I hate to admit it, but it’s beautiful.

Once I really looked at the sky, I wanted to go on looking; it seemed to draw me towards it and make me listen hard, though there was nothing to listen to, not so much as a twig was stirring.

On day one of the drive, I saw my first dome sky. The world was so flat that I could see the level horizon all around me and the sky looked like a dome. Skies like that will give you perspective when nothing else will. The second day, a tumbleweed blew across the interstate. I’m in a western movie, I said to myself, laughing. I found it so much easier to laugh now that this weight had been lifted from my shoulders.