A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose. — © Percy Bysshe Shelley
The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose.
The repose of sleep refreshes only the body. It rarely sets the soul at rest. The repose of the night does not belong to us. It is not the possession of our being. Sleep opens within us an inn for phantoms. In the morning we must sweep out the shadows.
The moon slid inexorably into its zenith, the shadows shrivelling to the feet of all that cast them, and as Rantel approached the hollow at the hem of the Twisted Woods he was treading in a pool of his own midnight.
The repose necessary to all beauty is repose, not of inanition, nor of luxury, nor of irresolution, but the repose of magnificent energy and being; in action, the calmness of trust and determination; in rest, the consciousness of duty accomplished and of victory won; and this repose and this felicity can take place as well in the midst of trial and tempest, as beside the waters of comfort.
The cloud presents a variety of new opportunities for Fortinet, ranging from how we leverage our own cloud-based technologies to make networks more secure, to actually developing the solutions that help secure the cloud infrastructure.
Fresh blood at midnight isn't red. It's a purplish black that easily blends into the shadows.
Cloud computing is actually a spectrum of things complementing one another and building on a foundation of sharing. Inherent dualities in the cloud computing phenomenon are spawning divergent strategies for cloud computing success. The public cloud, hybrid clouds, and private clouds now dot the landscape of IT based solutions. Because of that, the basic issues have moved from 'what is cloud' to 'how will cloud projects evolve'.
Spring and autumn are inconsiderable events in a landscape compared with the shadows of a cloud.
The government's living in its own cloud cuckoo land and it's a cloud of greenhouse gases.
Shadows of cloud lurked in the water, like holes the sun forgot about.
My life was an unending, unchanging midnight. It must, by necessity, always be midnight for me. So how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?
Many men spend their lives in gazing at their own shadows, and so dwindle away into shadows thereof.
My soul is wrapped in harsh repose, Midnight descends in raven-colored clothes, But soft... behold! A sunlight beam Butting a swath of glimmering gleam. My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in it, Inspired by your beauty... Effulgent.
I'm on cloud nine.. i wouldn't even say cloud nine... more like cloud ten... cloud nine was old news.
Illusions are shadows moving endlessly across the ground. The shadows are quite real but they're shadows. They have very little substance.
Men throw huge shadows on the lawn, don't they? Then, all their lives, they try to run to fit the shadows. But the shadows are always longer.
The cloud services companies of all sizes; the cloud is for everyone. The cloud is a democracy.
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