Sky Quotes

The sunrise was the colour of bad blood. It leaked out of the east and stained the dark sky red, marked the scraps of the cloud with stolen gold. Underneath it the road twisted up the mountainside towards the fortress of Fontezarmo - a cluster of sharp towers, ash-black again the wounded heavens. The sunrise was red, black and gold.The colours of their profession.

To me sometimes a mute sky is more expressive than the roaring sea

If the sky never grew dark, we would not be able to clearly see the stars.

Some people come drifting into our skies carrying hope just as the clouds drift into the deserts!

That dandy, the sky, enters blue-suitedsun like a scotch in hand.

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.

Then, like a shimmering disk too rich and clear to be described, the sun slipped over the horizon and lined everything with gold. It was like seeing the world being born, and we were the sole witnesses.

The sky of the color of ashes in the east and embers in the west.

I have always loved the many moods of the sky at Rocky Flats. Turquoise and teal in summer, fiery red at sunset, iron gray when snow is on the way. The land rolls in waves of tall prairie grass bowed to the wind, or sprawling mantles of white frosted with a thin sheath of ice in winter.

He lay on his back in his blankets and looked our where the quartermoon lay cocked over the heel of the mountains. In the false blue dawn the Pleiades seemed to be rising up into the darkness above the world and dragging all the stars away, the great diamond of Orion and Cepella and the signature of Cassiopeia all rising up through the phosphorous dark like a sea-net. He lay a long time listening to the others breathing in their sleep while he contemplated the wildness about him, the wildness within.

When we look up at the sky, we are trying to find the way back to ourselves

From the floor, I see the tops of the Philadelphia skyline out of her window. Staring at it, I realize that the night sky isn't really black, which is the way I've always thought of it. It's actually a dark shade of blue, the darkest possible.

You never needed wings to fly,You only needed love.

Our ancient Indian Rishis realized that SPACE is a distinct entity with its own properties and called it AAKASA...The West realized it only when Einstein published his Theory of Relativity....

I cast my eyes out to the seaAnd gaze at all eternity.until forever turns to night.My eyes then lift to catch starlight.

Our hair points to the sky, the place we'd rather be....

Tonight the sky is the color of my heart, bleeding crimson for my love

The color has faded out of the sky. It is grey, becoming darker as the world turns herself round a little more. The clouds are long and black and ragged, like the wings of stormbattered dragons.

I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky.

Breckin, this is Holder. Holder is not my boyfriend, but if I catch him trying to break the record for best first kiss with another girl, then he'll soon be my not breathing non-boyfriend.

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

Evil is the starry sky of the Good.

One of these days, I'm going to astral project myself up into the skies," he boasted. "I'll be going to the stars and the moon. I want to fly and see what's up there."I want to go up to the sky," he said, looking at his aunt, "from star to star.

The sun kept dipping down into the ocean and the lights came on at the harbor, casting sudden shadows on the ground, illuminating the faces that were just a second ago silhouettes. The sky was golden and purple, the ocean a darker shade of violet.

She's my pride, my winning prize, always a surprise, to look into her eyes, see her free soul, as soap that slips from the grip of control; a stroll through the park on a dark night with stars to spark the sky, heaven with no price tag I realize, love is the same: endless, priceless, full bliss; to have this princess I pinch myself thinking this is a dream, but to my reprise, I can only say I am now, at last, alive.

I have an arrow living inside my chest that shoots straight toward you—even though I know the sky is falling for us. Even though I know all we’re destined for is dust. I can’t make it change course. It leads me to you every time I’ve tried to turn away

MY EFFORTS FAIL I DON'T CRY,EVEN I CAN'T CATCH DREAMS SKY,I DIDN'T GIVE UP N ALWAYS TRY,MY MIND QUESTION ME WHY?MY HEART REMIND TO FLY.

This morning I woke up before the alarm clock went off and the sky outside was a big red ocean. You're beautiful when you're sleeping so I spent an hour observing the way you breathe. Inhale, exhale, without a thought of tomorrow. The window was open and the air was so crisp and I couldn't imagine how to ever ask for more than this.

Wisdom you speak, Obi Tina.''None of that - I'm the one who gets to speak backwards - no, we're both wrong - that's the little green guy, Yoda.''You're right. So I just get to pout and act badly when you try and teach me anything.''Try channelling Luke rather than Annakin - the outcome is better.

Hazel, like nearly all wild animals, was unaccustomed to look up at the sky. What he thought of as the sky was the horizon, usually broken by trees and hedges.

The pond is clear, but it isn't this beyond the sea blue and has never been. The sky is blue, but it isn't this strikingly bright and vivid nor has it ever been. But together, and in each other's company, they are more beautiful than they could ever have been alone...

I painlessly came to realize that the reverence I felt for the holiness of life is not ever likely to be entirely at home in organized religion. It was later, when I was able to travel farther , that the presence of holiness and mystery seemed, as far as my vision was able to see, to descend into the windows of Chartres, the stone peasant figures of Autun, the tall sheets of gold on the walls of Torcello that reflected the light of the sea; in the frescoes of Piero, of Giotto; in the shell of a church wall in Ireland still standing on a floor of sheep-cropped grass with no ceiling other than he changing sky.

There is bound to be turbulence in the clouds of confusion before one can view the friendly skies, and an illuminated landing strip.

When I opened my eyes I saw nothing but the pool of nocturnal sky, for I was lying on my back with out-stretched arms, face to face with that hatchery of stars. Only half awake, still unaware that those depths were sky, having no roof between those depths and me, no branches to screen them, no root to cling to, I was seized with vertigo and felt myself as if flung forth and plunging downward like a diver.

Look at the stars. It won't fix the economy. It won't stop wars. It won't give you flat abs, or even help you figure out your relationship. But it's important. It helps you to remember that you and your problems are both infinitesimally small and conversely, that you are a piece of an amazing and vast universe.

Don't need a magic carpet to soar or wings to fly. I simply close my eyes and place my soul against the sky.

There is another alphabet, whispering from every leaf, singing from every river, shimmering from every sky.

In the sky there are always answers and explanations for everything: every pain, every suffering, joy and confusion.

One square yard of drag will slow a falling body almost twenty percent.

Study the sky but never love it,” Father had told Astraia and me a thousand times. “It is our prison and the symbol of our captor.

You are as beautiful as sky, as soft as moon, as shiny as stars and as angry as Sun.

We are in the process of finding out what filling the sky with hundreds of thousands of satellites does to all life on Earth.

When the sea reaches the sky, then we shall all become one.

Sky. Hope mixed with horror as I searched for Zed, quessing he would not have let his soulfinder walk into this situation alone. I finally identified him as the heavily bearded drummer in the flowery shirt and, yes, socks and sandals. I bit my tongue, repressing the absurd desire to laugh at his fashion sacrifice for our cause.

Hope is a helium balloon. It is a wish lantern set out into the dark sky of night.

The sky would be clear, colorless, mist blending together the air and the ocean, the waves whispering against the rocks.

Dream’s elixir veered between light and clouds to save the blue..

Ugh! I absolutely hate lust. Hate. It. Every fiber of my being knows he’s not a good person, yet my body doesn't seem to give a shit at all.

The day was cold, and every time the little transparent fans of water swept in and drew back, the wet sand mirrored a clear sky and the sun on its way down.

There were days so clear and skies so brilliant blue, with white clouds scudding across them like ships under full sail, and she felt she could lift right off the ground. One moment she was ambling down a path, and the next thing she knew, the wind would take hold of her, like a hand pushing against her back. Her feet would start running without her even willing it, even knowing it. And she would run faster and faster across the prairie, until her heart jumped like a rabbit and her breath came in deep gasps and her feet barely skimmed the ground.It felt good to spend herself this way. The air tasted fresh and delicious; it smelled like damp earth, grass, and flowers. And her body felt strong, supple, and hungry for more of everything life could serve up.She ran and felt like one of the animals, as though her feet were growing up out of the earth. And she knew what they knew, that sometimes you ran just because you could, because of the way the rush of air felt on your face and how your legs reached out, eating up longer and longer patches of ground.She ran until the blood pounded in her ears, so loud that she couldn't hear the voices that said, You're not good enough, You're not old enough, You're not beautiful or smart or loveable, and you will always be alone.She ran because there were ghosts chasing her, shadows that pursued her, heartaches she was leaving behind. She was running for her life, and those phantoms couldn't catch her, not here, not anywhere. She would outrun fear and sadness and worry and shame and all those losses that had lined up against her like a column of soldiers with their guns shouldered and ready to fire. If she had to, she would outrun death itself.She would keep on running until she dropped, exhausted. Then she would roll over onto her back and breathe in the endless sky above her, sun glinting off her face.To be an animal, to have a body like this that could taste, see hear, and fly through space, to lie down and smell the earth and feel the heat of the sun on your face was enough for her. She did not need anything else but this: just to be alive, cool air caressing her skin, dreaming of Ivy and what might be ahead.

The pools had been written onto the fields by the rain. The pools were a magic worked by the rain, just as the tumbling of the black birds against the grey was a spell that the sky was working and the motion of grey-brown grasses was a spell that the wind made. Everything had meaning.

Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.

I believe that we should all be free to believe what we want and not be condemned for it,” I say without a thought. “I believe in a higher power and that it works within us. Whatever the name doesn't matter, it's the thought behind it that matters. It's the way we live our lives that matter and as long as I believe that there is someone in the sky there to protect us, no one here will ever break me.

Tracy had never been so conscious of the sky above the earth, the dangerous clouds that gathered there, the way humans lived beneath such grandeur and threat every moment of their lives.

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.

Only in a place like this do earth and sky come together in such a way that they bridge into one, and in such a place a person could put up her arms and find herself in heaven.

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.

Let my toes teach the shore how to feel a tranquil lifethrough the wetness of sands Let my heart latch the doorof blackness, as all my pain now blue sky understands

If you can't get what you want, you end up doing something else, just to get some relief. Just to keep from going crazy. Because when you're sad enough, you look for ways to fill you up.

Creation is the vocal chords of God speaking each day through the colors of the sunrise, the vastness of the night sky,the teeming of life in the ocean, the majesty of the mountains.