That your eyes are like bits of sky seen through the leaves. And that, like the rain washes the mud from the leaves, you... how did he say it? Oh yes. That you wash the darkness from the world.
Right now, I’m living like a piano is going to come plummeting from the sky any second, and I don’t know when. So it’s always like, this is it. This is all you’ve got left.
This was no peck on the lips. This was a real first kiss, a movie-star-knock-her-socks-off-fireworks-light-up-the-sky kind of kiss. A girl could live to be a hundred and never forget that kiss.
Be sure that head and heart were laid In wisdom down, content to die. Be sure he faced the Starless Sky Unduped, unmurmuring, unafraid. (“The Passing of Bierce”)
As the sky prepares to settle its tired, aching feet into the night’s velvet slippers I settle, into my armchair, soaking the teabag, of my thoughts, into warm liquidy stars.
The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit. Of course, Tally thought, you’d have to feed your cat only salmon-flavored cat food for a while, to get the pinks right.
It seemed to me that boys had a lot more fun. It was a relief. I didn't look at myself from the outside. I just lived inside my skin, looking out.
Her hand holding his for a dozen paces. His, resting on the small of her back for a moment. Touches that had no real purpose but to say I’m here and We are together still.
Without thinking, he reached for her hand. Tucked it against her chest, feeling that was where it should be. Perry's heart slammed against his ribs. She had to feel it.
He just wanted to get through his uninteresting day, so he could cross over into the night, and find his way to the red headed light that brightened the black sky.
How wonderful it must be, I thought, to be able to just spread your wings whenever you like without someone following you around trying to swat you out of the sky.
Our wings serve as flippers that carry us across the ocean; not in the sky! Why, us penguins have so much fun time in the water, we don't even want to fly!
His hands are on my back, in my hair, on my hips. His fingers move like I'm Braille, like he's trying to read me just by touching me.
This is a robbery. Sorry for the inconvenience'n'all but if you don't line up out here at the count of five then I'm gonna get all trigger-happy on your ass. One, two...
I remember...watching that separation of sea and sky...and for the first time I realize that none of us are seeing the same thing. That all our horizons end in different places.
When they see beyond the sky, When they know beyond the mind, When they hear the song of the Burning Light; Take these Gifts of My Outstretched Hand, Weave them together. I shall come.
All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.
Work at the same time on sky, water, branches, ground, keeping everything going on an equal basis... Don't be afraid of putting on colour... Paint generously and unhesitatingly, for it is best not to lose the first impression.
'Who are we?' And to me that's the essential question that's always been in science fiction. A lot of science fiction stories are - at their very best - evocations of that question. When we look up at the night sky and wonder, 'Is there anyone else o...
Let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who's trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.
If you will but aspire You will attain to all that you desire. Before an atom of such need the Sun Seems dim and mirky by comparison. It is life's strength, the wings by which we fly Beyond the further reaches of the sky.
