Quotes about raindrop (14 Quotes)


    There is neither source nor end, for all things are in the Center of Time. As all the stars may be reflected in a round raindrop falling in the night: so too do all the stars reflect the raindrop. There is neither darkness nor death, for all things are, in the Light of the Moment, and their end and their beginning are one.

    My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother's body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Prim's face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.


    It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness--and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark.





    Don't you know my name yet That's the only answer. Tell me, who are you alone, yourself and nameless But you are young and I am old. Eldest, that's what I am. Mark my words, my friends Tom was here before the river and the trees Tom remembers the first raindrop and the first acorn. He made paths before the Big People, and saw the little People arriving. He was here before the Kings and the graves and the Barrow-wights. When the Elves passed westward, Tom was here already, before the seas were bent. He knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.


    All the biggest country stars have played Lanierland, including George Jones and Tammy Wynette and Porter Waggoner and Dolly Parton, when the original venue was an old circus tent. I remember it leaked that night we had Porter and Dolly, ... We were sitting in the audience and a big raindrop hit me on the head.

    A raindrop coming in contact with fire looses it's existence while that falling on a shell becomes a 'pearl'. Therefore, people desirous of knowledge should avoid the company of ignorant people who believe in the motto- ignorance is bliss .


    The glories and the beauties of form, color, and sound unite in the Grand Canyon - forms unrivaled even by the mountains, colors that vie with sunsets, and sounds that span the diapason from tempest to tinkling raindrop, from cataract to bubbling fountain.

    To trace the history of a river, or a raindrop, as John Muir would have done, is also to trace the history of the soul, the history of the mind descending and arising in the body. In both we constantly seek and stumble on divinity, which, like the cornice feeding the lake and the spring becoming a waterfall, feeds, spills, falls, and feeds itself over and over again.



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