Rain Quotes - Page 2

One by one and then together the birds chanted, warbled, whistled, and cooed, like a rare desert plant bursting into life after the rain.

The first drops of rain started to fall.'God's policemen,' said Jester. 'You what?' 'The police always used to pray for rain before any big demonstration because people wouldn't turn up. Nobody wants to run riot in the streets if it's pouring with rain. Who's going to want to fight in this?

Although it was only six o'clock, the night was already dark. The fog, made thicker by its proximity to the Seine, blurred every detail with its ragged veils, punctured at various distances by the reddish glow of lanterns and bars of light escaping from illuminated windows. The road was soaked with rain and glittered under the street-lamps, like a lake reflecting strings of lights. A bitter wind, heavy with icy particles, whipped at my face, its howling forming the high notes of a symphony whose bass was played by swollen waves crashing into the piers of the bridges below. The evening lacked none of winter's rough poetry.

True love leaves no room for insecurities.

She sat there alone after getting drenched enough by rain. In the silence of the midnight, Each drop that fell made a sound that was loud enough to wake all the memories inside her one after the other, before she could know what was happening she was lost somewhere in the past where the pictures in mind pushed her into a state of chaotic happiness and a blissful pain.

The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day's last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.

Towards these weeks of rain I give effusive praise. Let me always be reminded that there is time for change.

It was a rainy night. It was the myth of a rainy night.

We have one thing in common with umbrellas: We both exist because the rain exists!

It was true that the city could still throw shadows filled with mystifying figures from its past, whose grip on the present could be felt on certain strange days, when the streets were dark with rain and harmful ideas.

The sky is grey, with a thin TV-static drizzle that hangs in the air like it's been freeze-framed.

He cursed himself for having assumed the weather would be sunny. Perhaps it was the result of evolution, he thought--some adaptive gene that allowed the English to go on making blithe outdoor plans in the face of almost certain rain.

The river and the garden have been the foundations of my economy here. Of the two I have liked the river best. It is wonderful to have the duty of being on the river the first and last thing every day. I have loved it even in the rain. Sometimes I have loved it most in the rain.

Rain clouds come floating in, not to muddy my days ahead, but to make me calm, happy and hopeful.

Guilt chilled me more than all of this rain combined.

No sane person resists the smell of the soil when sprinkled with water,Especially the smell of the intercourse between earth and rain.

I could feel the tears streaming down my face—in some kind of frenzied competition with the rain. At first, I tried to brush the tears away, but I finally let them take their course, unabated.

...I don't just wish you rain, Beloved - I wish you the beauty of storms...

I want you to crave the crisp ocean breezeas much as I do.I want your soul to beas rain-swept as mine.

sometimes i don't know, which momentwhich cool gust of wind will come,and enchant metousling my hairand my heart, stirring...that familiar ache of poetry, which drop will kissthe old wrench in my soulreminding me, all over againi miss you better in the rain.

How many of us have lately taken the time out to look at the sky; marvel at the clouds; smell the flowers; or smelt the fresh scent of rain; bought a stranger a cup of tea or coffee; given our time to help another; or just taken time out to sit and watch people rush hither and tither; said "I love you"; smiled at a complete stranger; joined in with kids from the street to play a game?Sadly, I would have to say....not many.It's sad....

The sound of thunder, the smell of rain. The earth giving birth to another season. Nature's labor pains...beautiful.

I woke to the sound of rain.

... millions long for immortality who don't know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

Don’t predict the condition of the entire day by the state of the morning. You don’t judge a book by its cover. A cloudy morning is no guarantee for a rainy day!

She was back in western Washington state, where rain was so prevalent that a day of sunshine was the lead story on the local news.

As a youth, I listened to the rain from the bowers of pleasure houses,Red silk drapes translucent in the glow of candlelight.In my prime, I listened to the rain as a traveler,The sky low, the river broad, the calls of the wild geese harsh and cold.Now, grey at the temples, I listen to the rain beneath the eaves of an abandoned cloister.Has mine been a futile life?I have no answers, only the sound of raindrops upon worn stone steps,And long hours yet to pass before the light of dawn.

Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.

The eyelids of the burdened clouds let fall cascadesOf rain, and the parterred garden is spattered with drops.

Clear skies do not promise rain.

When you become a raindrop in your mind Thunder is the closest friend you may find Wind lashed trees, dark clouds, lightning or the dust Everything you will bear once you adjust

I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying.

God is a cloud from which rain fell.

in the afterglowof an evening raini lay downin the grass and think of youmy body acheslike an after-kissbreaking in soft firesand wildflowersmy dear, i will always bethis tender for you.

She dreamed of autumn. Of chilly autumn winds and soft fall rains. She could even feel the cool moisture as the rain drops touched her face and ran down her cheeks. Her denim skirt and work boots felt heavy as the rain in her dreams splashed cold water against them

Rain caused one to reflect on the shadowed, more poignant parts of life—the inescapable sorrows, the speechless longings, the disappointments, the regrets, the cold miseries. It also allowed one the leisure to ponder questions unasked in the bustle of brighter days; and if one were snug under a sound roof, as Abel was, one felt somehow mothered, though mothers were nowhere around, and absolved of responsibilities.

Umbrellas raining upon me, as these cloudy tears give me shelter.

ENDURANCEI don't know you,But I love you,Just as God loves me and you.The sun and the moonAre opposing forces,But they still greet each other,Peacefully,As one awakens in the morning,Just as the other goes to sleep.Life has pounded me downAnd thrashed me around,Time and time again,But I always get right back up,Because I still love life -Just as the earth still lovesThe rain.

Learn to dance in the storm so when life hands you a stormy weather, you just glide through it

The wind has shifted to the East. A storm isn't far off. I can smell the moisture in the air, a fetid, living thing. Isolated drops fall, licking at my hands, my face, my dress. The quests squawk in surprise, turn their palms up to the sky as if questioning it, and dash for cover.

Stars are only the rain of the Absolute.

The rain fluctuates between drizzle and torrential. It messes with your mind. It makes you think things will always be like this, never getting better, always letting you down right when you though the worst was over.

Rain just rains, it does nothing else. Wisdom just rains, it does nothing else! And those who get the rain get the miracles hidden inside the rain and create their own miracles!

Some days you get up and you already know that things aren't going to go well. They're the type of days when you should just give in, put your pajamas back on, make some hot chocolate and read comic books in bed with the covers up until the world looks more encouraging. Of course, they never let you do that.

I rouse Emily to our guests, as she finishes off our fifteenth snowman by setting the head atop its torso. She stands limp at my direction, pointing out the coming shadows and I cannot help but hear a muffled sigh as she decapitates her latest creation with a single push of her hand.

People want to kill rain and truth... if you kill it what does it left??? A naked world, am I right?

So that's what we did - rocketing down Sixth Avenue, dashing around the rest of the post-concert crowd, splashing our tracks until our ankles were soaked. You took the lead, and I started to lose my sprint. But then you looked back, stopped, and waited for me to catch up, for me to take your hand, for us to continue to run in the rain, drenched and enchanted, my words to Amanda no longer feeling like a requirement, but a foretelling.

Truth falls from the heavens like rain, gently carving many channels in the earth. Your truth may be different from my own, yet both are still true.

Umbrella is comfort, rain is life! You must often leave comfort to touch the life!

For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD sends rain on the land.' 1 Kings 17:14

This is what fun is like," said Rain, almost to herself.

Rain in the Northwest is not the pounding, flashing performance enjoyed by the eastern part of the nation. Nor is it the festive annual soaking I'd been used to in Southern California. Rather, it's a seven-month drizzle that darkens the sky, mildews the bath towels, and propels those already prone to depression into the dim comforts of antihistamines and a flask.

Rainbow of happiness is the byproduct of your inner sunshine, after the rain of sorrows.

And in this moment, like a swift intake of breath, the rain came.

Clouds shed the agony of the sky and rain concludes it by covering us in filth. What do you think about the puddles of mud and traffic jams? I so hate rain.

My tears of joyhear the raindrops crying,as the rain never wants to pourdown on my cloudy dayswhen I makeour love-dreamsfor the sun to dreamonly for you....(From the poem "Only For You" By Munia Khan)

You can’t shower happiness on others without getting few drops back on yourself.

The scent of rain on a sultry spring evening is always an indulgence.

It rained toads the day the White Council came to town.

The sky, drunk with spring and giddy with its fumes, thickened with clouds. Low clouds, drooping at the edges like felt sailed over the woods and rain leapt from them, warm, smelling of soil and sweat, and washing the last of the black armor-plating of ice from the earth.