Top 1200 Clear Blue Sky Quotes & Sayings - Page 3

I'm a New York kid, so when I saw that plane that hit the first building, I suspected it was terrorism - blue sky day.

Everywhere the sky is blue. There are a multitude of cuisines and dishes. I think of them as the languages and dialects of food.

Every day, the sun comes out and the sky's always blue. That's what I miss about Denver.

I love the sticky leaves in spring, the blue sky — that’s all it is. It’s not a matter of intellect or logic, it’s loving with one’s inside, with one’s stomach.

You say: "I'm a blue sky thinker." Investor thinks: "You have no business model, and you don't know how to ship."

And joy is everywhere; it is in the earth's green covering of grass; in the blue serenity of the sky.

Let the blue sky overhead, The green earth on which ye tread, All that must eternal be Witness the solemnity.

On Wednesday, when the sky is blue, and I have nothing else to do, I sometimes wonder if it's true That who is what and what is who." - Winnie-the-Pooh

Her face was fair and pretty, with eyes like two bits of night sky, each with a star dissolved in the blue.

Suddenly, from behind the rim of the moon, in long, slow-motion moments of immense majesty, there emerges a sparkling blue and white jewel, a light, delicate, sky-blue sphere laced with slowly swirling veils of white, rising gradually like a small pearl in a thick sea of black mystery. It takes more than a moment to fully realize this is Earth ... home. My view of our planet was a glimpse of divinity.

The true person is Not anyone in particular; But like the deep blue color Of the limitless sky, It is everyone, Everywhere in the world.

Cirrus sky hawk drift, blue haze in the autumn air, and my mouth is dry.

The walls are white, the track is grey, the grass is green, and the sky is blue...your job is to keep them all where they belong.

When I go biking, I repeat a mantra of the day's sensations: bright sun, blue sky, warm breeze, blue jay's call, ice melting and so on. This helps me transcend the traffic, ignore the clamorings of work, leave all the mind theaters behind and focus on nature instead. I still must abide by the rules of the road, of biking, of gravity. But I am mentally far away from civilization. The world is breaking someone else's heart.

There are moments on most days when I feel a deep and sincere gratitude, when I sit at the open window, and there is a blue sky or moving clouds.

I'm a blue-sky, 85-degree, nine-holes-in-a-cart, lunch-on-the-terrace kind of girl.

Do you know that moment when you paint a landscape as a child and, when you're maybe under seven or something, the sky is just a blue stripe across the top of the paper? And then there's that somewhat disappointing moment when the teacher tells you that the sky actually comes down in amongst all the branches. And it's like life changes at that moment and becomes much more complicated and a little bit more boring, as it's rather tedious to fill in the branches.

The birds laugh loud and long together When Fashion's followers speed away At the first cool breath of autumn weather. Why, this is the time, cry the birds, to stay! When the deep calm sea and the deep sky over Both look their passion through sun-kissed space, As a blue-eyed maid and her blue-eyed lover Might each gaze into the other's face.

Internet users, that blue screen of death you were looking at this morning? That's the sky. If you're still confused, look it up on Wikipedia tomorrow.

In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street. And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day?

Woman, nude, is the blue sky. Clouds and garments are an obstacle to contemplation. Beauty and infinity would be gazed upon unveiled.

I would like to make something very clear: Blue Lives Matter!

Heaven to me's a fair blue stretch of sky, Earth's jest a dusty road.

Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I’ll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or in the deep, deep woods and I'd look up into the sky—up—up—up—into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just feel a prayer.

Blue suggests the sea and sky, and they, after all, are in actual, visible nature what is most abstract.

Because I'm from Manchester I'm always looking for a bit of blue sky wherever I can find it.

The spacious firmament on high, And all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim.

The thoughts that occur to me while I’m running are like clouds in the sky. Clouds of all different sizes. They come and they go, while the sky remains the same sky always. The clouds are mere guests in the sky that pass away and vanish, leaving behind the sky.

...When I asked [my dad why the sky was blue] he said it was because God's a boy. If God were a girl, the sky would be pink. 'What about sunrise and sunset?' I'd asked. Dad had looked dumbfounded. 'You kids. You think too much.' It frightened me how shallow the gene pool was that Liam and I were wading in.

One day Boudin said to me, 'Learn to draw well and appreciate the sea, the light, the blue sky.' I took his advice.

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragonfly Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky.

It was a beautiful bright autumn day, with air like cider and a sky so blue you could drown in it.

The sky is so clear today you can see all the way to Missouri.

Look at the sky. It’s not dark and black and without character. The black is, in fact deep blue. And over there: lighter blue and blowing through the blues and blackness the winds swirling through the air and then shining, burning, bursting through: the stars! And you see how they roar their light. Everywhere we look, the complex magic of nature blazes before our eyes.

Even behind prison walls I can see the heavy clouds and the blue sky over the horizon

If you live in the States, you see the windmill signal on your smartphone all the time. It's like living in Beijing air. You have to remember the blue sky.

It's just the way it is. The sky is blue, the sun is bright, and Aspen endlessly loves America. It's how the world was designed to be.

When I was in graduate school in consumer science and math, all of the big companies had labs, all doing blue sky research.

The nearest I'd come to feeling anything like God was the plan blue cloudless sky and a certain silence, but how do you pray to that?

I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.

And should I not, had I but known, have flung the machine this way and that, once more to feel it live under my hand, have sported in the sky and laughed and sung, knowing that never after should I feel so free, so sure in hazard, so secure, riding the daylight in the pride of youth? No more horizons wider than Hope! No more the franchise of the sky, the freedom of the blue! No more! Farewell to wings! Down to the little earth!

Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky.

My only sketch, profile, of Heaven is a large blue sky, and larger than the biggest I have seen in June - and in it are my friends - every one of them.

I have no idea how he knows when I need him. We can go weeks without speaking, and then, when my blue moods threaten to turn black, he will show up and tell me my moods are azure indigo cerulean cobalt periwinkle and suddenly the blue will not seem so dark, more like the color of a noon-bright sky. He brings the sun.

Geese appear high over us, / pass, and the sky closes. Abandon, / as in love or sleep, holds them to their way, clear / in the ancient faith: what we need / is here. And we pray, not / for new earth or heaven, but to be / quiet in heart, and in eye, / clear. What we need is here.

Did you know, I'm still in love with this blue sky until forever and ever, eternally.

How can one find the first moment of love? When, in what instant, does the night's dark sky become blue?

When the clouds clear we shall know the colour of the sky

Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky.

Clear mind is like the full moon in the sky. Sometimes clouds come and cover it, but the moon is always behind them. Clouds go away, then the moon shines brightly. So don't worry about clear mind: it is always there. When thinking comes, behind it is clear mind. When thinking goes, there is only clear mind. Thinking comes and goes, comes and goes, You must not be attached to the coming or the going.

I love life. There's so much to learn and see all the time, and nothing nicer for me than to wake up, and the sky is blue.

And in the morning when the sun rise. Look in the water, see the blue sky. As if heaven has been laid there at our feet.

Well, I got to have a project. I'm not a blue-sky guy at all. I'd never let anybody like me loose in a company.

At a few hundred kilometers altitude, the Earth fills half your sky, and the band of blue that stretches from Mindanao to Bombay, which your eye encompasses in a single glance, can break your heart with its beauty. Home you think. Home. This is my world. This is where I come from. Everyone I know, everyone I ever heard of, grew up down there, under that relentless and exquisite blue.

I like colorful tales with black beginnings and stormy middles and cloudless blue-sky endings. But any story will do.

Anyone who sees and paints a sky green and fields blue ought to be sterilized.

I am not proposing to seek your votes because there is a blue sky ahead today.

They lifted their faces to the astonishing warmth. The sky arched over them, a pale, clear blue. Lina felt as though a lid that had been on her all her life had been lifted off. Light and air rushed though her, making a song, like the songs of Ember, only it was a song of joy. She looked at Doon and saw that he was smiling and crying at the same time, and she realized that she was, too.

The air is like a butterfly With frail blue wings. The happy earth looks at the sky And sings.

…and there, in the background, the sky’s sediment had sunk to a place where all the woe of the words ‘I am’ dissolved into blue peace. He said it. ‘The ocean.