Clouds Sky Quotes

The world is a dream, you say, and it’s lovely, sometimes. Sunset. Clouds. Sky.” “No. The image is a dream. The beauty is real. Can you see the difference?

I saw two clouds at morning Tinged by the rising sun, And in the dawn they floated on And mingled into one.

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.

Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?

See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away Over the snowy peaks!

I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams.

Were I a cloud I'd gather My skirts up in the air, And fly I well know whither, And rest I well know where.

The clouds, - the only birds that never sleep.

O it is pleasant, with a heart at ease, Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies, To make the shifting clouds be what you please.

God is the Sun and when His rays fall upon your heart, not impeded by the clouds of egoism, the lotus blooms and the petals unfold.

Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven, curtain round the vault of heaven.

God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.

when we look up, it widens our horizons. we see what a little speck we are in the universe, so insignificant, and we all take ourselves so seriously, but in the sky, there are no boundaries. No differences of caste or religion or race.

Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water.

A pessimist sees only the dark side of the clouds and mopes; a philosopher sees both sides and shrugs; an optimist doesn't see the clouds at all - he's walking on them.

When scattered clouds are resting on the bosoms of hills, it seems as if one might climb into the heavenly region, earth being so intermixed with sky, and gradually transformed into it.

People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.

Far clouds of feathery gold, Shaded with deepest purple, gleam Like islands on a dark blue sea.

You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds.

A cloud does not know why it moves in just such a direction and at such a speed, it feels an impulsion... this is the place to go now. But the sky knows the reasons and the patterns behind all clouds, and you will know, too, when you lift yourself high enough to see beyond horizons.

The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.

O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

The sky is that beautiful old parchment in which the sun and the moon keep their diary.

It is better to have your head in the clouds, and know where you are... than to breathe the clearer atmosphere below them, and think that you are in paradise.

Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.

The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be?--it is the same the angels breathe.

I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.

I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die.

Clouds come floating into my life from other days no longer to shed rain or usher storm but to give colour to my sunset sky.

There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds.