Sky Quotes - Page 17

• Sometimes to walk in shaded parts of Manhattan is to be inserted into a Magritte: the street is night while the sky is day.

  Joseph O'Neill

  Night, Manhattan, Sometimes

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• Fate! Fate! All things pass away; Life is forever, youth is for a day. Love again if you may Before the stars are blown out of the sky And the crickets die; Babylon and Samarkand Are mud walls in a waste of sand.

  John Gould Fletcher

  Life, Death, Stars

  John Gould Fletcher, Lucas Carpenter, Leighton Rudolph (1988). “Selected Poems of John Gould Fletcher”, p.172, University of Arkansas Press

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• But then you become closed. Then you start dying as far as your intelligence is concerned because intelligence needs the open sky, the wind, the air, the sun in order to grow, to expand, to flow. To remain alive it needs a constant flow; if it becomes stagnant it becomes slowly slowly a dead phenomenon.

  Rajneesh

  Order, Wind, Air

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• Above me I saw something I did not believe at first. Well above the haze layer of the earth's atmosphere were additonal faint thin bands of blue, sharply etched against the dark sky. They hovered over the earth like a succession of halos.

  David G. Simons

  Believe, Dark, Space

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• Summer ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the Stooks arise Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behavior Of silk-sack clouds! Has wilder, willful-waiver Meal-drift molded ever and melted across skies?

  Gerard Manley Hopkins

  Summer, Clouds, Wind

  Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Hurrahing In Harvest”

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• Spring scarce had greener fields to show than these Of mid September; through the still warm noon The rivulets ripple forth a gladder tune Than ever in the summer; from the trees Dusk-green, and murmuring inward melodies, No leaf drops yet; only our evenings swoon In pallid skies more suddenly, and the moon Finds motionless white mists out on the leas.

  Edward Dowden

  Summer, Spring, Moon

  Edward Dowden (1877). “Poems”

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• And see the peaceful trees extend their myriad leaves in leisured dance- they bear the weight of sky and cloud upon the fountain of their veins.

  Kathleen Raine

  Clouds, Tree, Peaceful

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• And so she comes to dream herself the tree, The wind possessing her, weaving her young veins, Holding her to the sky and its quick blue, Drowning the fever of her hands in sunlight. She has no memory, nor fear, nor hope Beyond the grass and shadows at her feet.

  Hart Crane

  Dream, Memories, Blue

  Hart Crane (1966). “The complete poems and selected letters and prose of Hart Crane”, Anchor

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• Summertime And the living is easy Fish are jumpin' And the cotton is high Oh, your daddy's rich And your mama's good lookin' So hush little baby now don't you cry One of these mornin's You're gonna rise up singin' Then you'll spread your wings And take to the sky But til that mornin' Ain't nothin' can harm you With your daddy And your mammy standin' by.

  George Gershwin

  Summer, Baby, Wings

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• And hate the bright stillness of the noon without wind, without motion. the only other living thing a hawk, hungry for prey, suspended in the blinding, sunlit blue. And yet how gentle it seems to someone raised in a landscape short of rain- the skyline of a hill broken by no more trees than one can count, the grass, the empty sky, the wish for water.

  Dana Gioia

  Summer, Hate, Rain

  Dana Gioia (2016). “99 Poems: New & Selected”, p.35, Macmillan

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• An instinctive taste teaches men to build their churches with spire steeples which point as with a silent finger to the sky and stars.

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge

  Stars, Men, Church

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1834). “Biographia Literaria: Or, Biographical Sketches of My Literary Life and Opinions”, p.291

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• Our soul lives in Peace and lives for Peace. If we live a life of peace, we are ever enriched and never impoverished. Unhorizoned is our inner peace; like the boundless sky, it encompasses all.

  Sri Chinmoy

  Peace, Soul, Boundless

  Sri Chinmoy (2003). “Wisdom of Sri Chinmoy”, p.208, Motilal Banarsidass Publ.

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• Walking the streets on winter nights kept him warm, despite the cold nocturnal passions of uprising winds. His footsteps led between trade-marked houses, two up and two down, with digital chimneys like pigs' tits on the rooftops sending up heat and smoke into the cold trough of a windy sky. Stars hid like snipers, taking aim now and again when clouds gave them a loophole. Winter was an easy time for him to hide his secrets, for each dark street patted his shoulder and became a friend, and the gaseous eye of each lamp glowed unwinking as he passed.

  Alan Sillitoe

  Stars, Eye, Passion

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• The conditions of a solitary bird are five: The first, that it flies to the highest point; The Second, that it does not suffer for company, not even of its own kind; The Third, that it aims its beak to the skies; The Fourth, that it does not have a definite color; The Fifth, that it sings very softly.

  John of the Cross

  Color, Bird, Suffering

  Saint John of the Cross, Antonio T. de Nicolas (1996). “San Juan de la Cruz”, p.34, Weiser Books

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• The great miraculous bell of translucent ice is suspended in mid-air. It rings to announce endings and beginnings. And it rings because there is fresh promise and wonder in the skies.

  Vera Nazarian

  Inspirational, New Year, Air

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• Long live all us crazy soldiers
  Who were born under calico skies
  May we never be called to handle
  All the weapons of war we despise

  Paul McCartney

  Crazy, War, Long

  Song: Calico Skies, 1997

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• When you realize how perfect [or at least better than it could be] everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky.

  Gautama Buddha

  Gratitude, Perfect, Laughing

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• The meanest flowret of the vale, / The simplest note that swells the gale, / The common sun, the air, and skies, / To him are opening paradise.

  Thomas Gray

  Air, Paradise, Sun

  Thomas Gray (2014). “Gray's English Poems”, p.58, Cambridge University Press

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• Honey comes out of the air At early dawn the leaves of trees are found bedewed with honey. Whether this is the perspiration of the sky or a sort of saliva of the stars, or the moisture of the air purging itself, nevertheless it brings with it the great pleasure of its heavenly nature. It is always of the best quality when it is stored in the best flowers.

  Pliny the Elder

  Stars, Flower, Food

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• The baskets start at $25 and] the sky's the limit, I've done baskets worth hundreds of dollars. At that price, they are putting in luxury items.

  John Neff

  Luxury, Dollars, Done

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• When the waters of a lake are absolutely still, the lake reflects the trees, the sky, and everything around it perfectly. At the slightest breeze, with the smallest ripple in the waters, the lake reflects nothing but itself. To see another with clarity and objectivity, one first must master stillness. The slightest breeze of judgment or interpretation from the rational mind will create a ripple that shatters Awareness and returns us to ordinary perception.

  Alberto Villoldo

  Lakes, Objectivity, Water

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• Years ago, I was crashed in gram’s garden and Big asked me what I was doing. I told him I was looking up at the sky. He said, “That’s a misconception, Lennie, the sky is everywhere, it begins at your feet.

  Jandy Nelson

  Garden, Years, Feet

  Jandy Nelson (2010). “The Sky Is Everywhere”, p.80, Penguin

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• God was something I did not understand the way kids who went to church did. They said God was a man in the sky with white hair and a beard like Santa. This seemed strange to me. When I thought of God, I imagined only mist over the pond, a sliver of moon in a dark sky, scatterings of stars, birdsong.

  Melissa Coleman

  Stars, Kids, Dark

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• This willingness continually to revise one's own location in order to place oneself in the path of beauty is the basic impulse underlying education. One submits oneself to other minds (teachers) in order to increase the chance that one will be looking in the right direction when a comet makes its sweep through a certain patch of sky.

  Elaine Scarry

  Teacher, Order, Mind

  Elaine Scarry (2013). “On Beauty and Being Just”, p.7, Princeton University Press

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• Your story matters, who you are matters, tonight matters, none of it is an accident. You were born for the blue skies.

  Jon Foreman

  Blue, Stories, Tonight

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