Top 1200 Sky And Clouds Quotes & Sayings - Page 17

Spring goeth all in white, / Crowned with milk-white may: / In fleecy flocks of light / O'er heaven the white clouds stray.

At the entrance, my bare feet on the dirt floor, Here, gusts of heat; at my back, white clouds. I stare and stare. It seems I was called for this: To glorify things just because they are.

My prophecy is but half his journey yet, For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.

You say we'll soar like two birds through the clouds, but soon you'll cage me on your shelf. I'll never learn to be just me, first by myself.

It is to the press mankind are indebted for having dispelled the clouds which so long encompassed religion, for disclosing her genuine lustre, and disseminating her salutary doctrines.

I have been around in Pune. I was here to shoot my first film, 'Beyond The Clouds,' at a vegetable market. I remember the pungent smells were so overwhelming, and I've seen the biggest jackfruits and pumpkins there. It was a fun experience.

Few people have written significant books about San Francisco. Robert Duncan was, in my opinion, often in the clouds. If he walked the streets a lot he didn't write about as such.

Trump is the white evangelicals' version of V.I. Lenin's 'useful idiot,' a character who is helping achieve their apocalyptic fever dreams, but who will perish along with the rest of us as the faithful perch in the clouds.

You are the sky. Everything else - it’s just the weather.

I sell blue sky and coloured air.

Kindness has no religion. It is like an open sky.

The ground we walk on, the plants and creatures, the clouds above constantly dissolving into new formations - each gift of nature possessing its own radiant energy, bound together by cosmic harmony.

I wrote my will across the sky, in stars

Hope is a real thing. It's not pie in the sky.

The sky is falling. No, I'm tipping over backwards.

I understand the atmosphere better than I ever did before. You feel the thermals while paragliding. You are in the clouds. Chasing a storm puts you in front of the cloud, not a book. I hope to learn as I do these things.

We are two abysses - a well staring at the sky.

The lamps are burning and the starry sky is over it all.

Rock stars aren't crapped out of the sky.

Outside, a ceiling of pearly gray clouds coalesced over Manhattan, and the apartment had grown dark. It just keeps dripping. It's been like this all week, .. Rain would be a relief.

Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell,’ Holly advised him. ‘That was Doc’s mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can’t give your heart to a wild thing; the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they’re strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That’s how you’ll end up Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You’ll end up looking at the sky.

The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful, and so are you.

My apprehension comes in crowds, I dread the rustling of the grass, The very shadows of the clouds, Have power to shake me as they pass, I question things and do not find, one that will answer to my mind, And all the world appears unkind.

We all do things we desperately wish we could undo. Those regrets just become part of who we are, along with everything else. To spend time trying to change that, well, it's like chasing clouds.

My bounce-around life had taught me that dreams were dangerous things - they look solid in your mind, but you just try to reach for them. It's like gathering clouds.

The heavens are not filled with hostility. The sky does not express a frown. When I look up I do not contemplate a face of brass, but the face of infinite good will. Yet when I was a child, many a picture has made me think of God as suspicious, inhumanly watchful, always looking round the corner to catch me at the fall. That "eye," placed in the sky of many a picture, and placed there to represent God, filled my heart with chilling fear. . . . Heaven overflows with good will toward us! Our God not only wishes good, he wills it!

Spiritual people don't float around all day on clouds of glory; they live in the real world and deal with real issues in real ways.

Our brains are wired to interpret shapes as faces and bodies. That's why people see the Virgin Mary in the clouds or even in cheese sandwiches. It's your cytoplasm, not some strange ectoplasm.

But for that blindness which is inseparable from malice, what terrible powers of evil would it possess! Fortunately for the world, its venom, like that of the rattlesnake, when most poisonous, clouds the eye of the reptile, and defeats its aim.

Man, I think the sky is the limit for this team.

When you fall in love, you genuinely hear violin being played in the background. You genuinely feel that clouds are bursting and you look at every small thing as really beautiful.

Waiting for the winds of change to sweep the clouds away. Waiting for the rainbow's end to cast its gold your way ... You don't get something for nothing. You can't have freedom for free

No one is free, even the birds are chained to the sky.

I learned playing cello in 'Cantabile' and Go in 'Reply 1988.' In 'Moonlight Drawn by Clouds,' I learned horse riding and Geomungo. It's fun to learn new things.

It just seems that if you hang on for a while longer, there is always something bright around the corner, or the dark clouds will go away and there will be sunshine again.

If you would and you could brighten my northern sky.

I owned the world that hour as I rode over it. free of the earth, free of the mountains, free of the clouds, but how inseparably I was bound to them.

My moods are inversely related to the clarity of the sky.

Care is taken that trees do not grow into the sky.

I fell from the sky. I'm a parachutist, and I missed my mark.

Get a dream, hold on to it and shoot for the sky.

Sutures of lightning tightened the edges of the sky.

It is not enough to jump if you want to reach the sky.

Paint here no draped despairs, no saddening clouds, Where the soul rests, proclaims eternity. But let the wrong cry out as raw as wounds, This Time forgets and never heals, far less transcends.

Just as old age is creeping on space, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, They kindly leave us, though not quite alone, But in good company--the gout or stone.

The light died in the low clouds. Falling snow drank in the dusk. Shrouded in silence, the branches wrapped me in their peace. When the boundaries were erased, once again the wonder: that *I* exist.

I've seen several funnel clouds as a kid, too. They're cool if, you know, they're, like, two towns over, but they're scary as hell if you know they're coming your way.

I belive I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky.

Excuse me while I kiss the sky.

As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,- Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

The sky had never seemed so sky; the world had never seemed so world.

If there's only one nation in the sky, shouldn't all passports be valid for it?

There is no formula that will guarantee success in forecasting, no magic words that will part the clouds. The real problem, as the old saw puts it, is that the future lies ahead.

When no one is looking, I swallow deserts and clouds and chew on mountains knowing they are sweet bones! When no one is looking and I want to kiss God, I just lift my own hand to my mouth.

The desert sky is encircling, majestic, terrible.

There is some CO2-water vapor feedback. But it's not operating on a global scale. The modellers cannot accurately separate water vapour from the effects of clouds and rainfall.

Since, during storms, flames leap from the humid vapors and dark clouds emit deafening noises, is it surprising the lightning, when it strikes the ground, gives rise to truffles, which do not resemble plants?

It's amazing the difference A bit of sky can make.

The weeping voices rise straight up and strike the clouds. A passer-by at the roadside asks a conscript why, The conscript answers only that drafting happens often.

When the sky’s falling, I take shelter under bullshit.