Nature is imperfectly perfect, filled with loose parts and possibilities, with mud and dust, nettles and sky, transcendent hands-on moments and skinned knees.
Going around under an umbrella interferes with one's looking up at the sky.
Was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. Not a negative word was heard.
When the skies and the oceans are clean again. Then we shall be free.
Life is girt all round with a zodiac of sciences, the contributions of men who have perished to add their point of light to our sky. ... These road-makers on every hand enrich us. We must extend the area of life and multiply our relations. We are as much gainers by finding a property in the old earth as by acquiring a new planet.
Einstein's space is no closer to reality than Van Gogh's sky.
I remember when you were born, it was dawn and the storm settled near my belly. And I rolled in the grass and spit out the gas, and I lit a match and the void went flash. And the sky split and the planets hit, balls of jade dropped and existence stopped.
We believe we will raise the sky, we got to fly over the land, over the sea. Fate unwinds and if we die, souls arise. God, do not seize me please.
O' beautiful, for spacious skies But now those skies are threatening They're beating plowshares into swords For this tired old man that we elected king.
The difficulty lay with the mind accommodating itself to the notion of the plane, with all its weight, defying gravity, staying aloft. She understood the aerodynamics of flight, could comprehend the laws of physics that made flight possible, but her heart, at the moment, would have none of it. Her heart knew the plane could fall out of the sky.
We lay there and looked up at the night sky and she told me about stars called blue squares and red swirls and I told her I'd never heard of them. Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own.
I've seen lights in the sky, I've seen UFOs, I've even seen something on the ground that I can't explain, but I've never actually seen a being. I wish I had.
To die, so young to die. No, no, not I, I love the warm sunny skies, light, song, shining eyes, I want no war, no battle cry, No, no, not I.
It is only from the light which streams constantly from heaven that a tree can derive the energy to strike its roots deep into the soil. The tree is in fact rooted in the sky.
Cosmic systems intertwine, astral bodies drip like wine, all of nature ebbs and flows. Comets shoot across the sky, can't explain the reasons why, this is how creation goes.
Hills of forest green where the mountains touch the sky, a dream come true, I'll live there til I die.
The tree of life is growing where the spirit never dies, and the bright light of salvation shines in dark and empty skies.
As I lay me down to sleep, this I pray. That you will hold me, dear. Though I'm far away, I whisper your name into the sky. And I will wake up happy.
The first time I ever saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes and the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and empty sky, my love.
I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, yours until the rivers run dry. In other words, until the day I day.
There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good stories seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky.
I can see thru mountains watch me disappear, I can even touch the sky. Swallowing the colors of the sounds I hear, am I just a crazy guy? You bet.
Traveling is irritating to me, but not driving. Going to the airport makes me nervous, but when I set out to just take a leisurely drive, it's blue skies and puffy clouds and time.
The sky never changes: it is the cloud that is changing.
Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise; My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.
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