In The Sky Quotes

If you haven't read Zomburbia, you haven't read about zombies. This is a new take and it is scary, freaky, and original. Gallardo resets the zombie bar and it's sky-high. Get this book!

The world does not run on the number of certificates one has, but on the skills our hands have. Let the youth dream big and aim for the sky. The work of a government should be to open doors.

Hasn't there always been a moon?" "Bless you. Not in the slightest. I remember the day the moon came. We looked up in the sky - it was all dirty brown and sooty gray here then, not green and blue.

My dad passed away...and suddenly I found myself at the top of the tree and looking at the sky instead of at my mom and dad.

How immense the high sky is!

If hers are the stars in the nighttime sky, mine are the haunted empty spaces in between.

I fly with the stars in the skies I am no longer trying to survive.

There are bad times just around the corner, There are dark clouds travelling through the sky, And it's no good whining, About a silver lining, For we know from experience they won't roll by...

There was something about the prairie for me—it wasn’t where I had come from, but when I moved there it just took me in and I knew I couldn’t ever stop living under that big sky.

Sometimes, I wake up and the skies are grey and everything's horrible.

And then a low and powerful sound rumbles thru the sky, like some giant, deep horn. A sound God would make when he wanted yer attenshun.

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.

Carl Jung put [Orfeo Angelucci] in his last book [Flying Saucers: A Modern Myth of Things Seen in the Sky, Harcourt, Brace & World, 1959]. He said Orfeo had made up a new bible.

All at once we see things in our skies, and we both realize it together. Well you know they were wrong, get on the right thing.

I sing my heart out to the wide open spaces I sing my heart out to the infinite sea I sing my vision to the sky-high mountains I sing my song to the free.

Stars, everywhere. So many stars that I could not for the life me understand how the sky could contain them all yet be so black.

At sea let the British their neighbours defy — The French shall have frigates to traverse the sky.

So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.

With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face!

And as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay, Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Well, I don't call you an atheist then. I think if you believe in the awe and the wonder and the mystery, then that is what God is. That is what God is, not the bearded guy in the sky.

Oh, how I vainly wished to the bearded man in the sky that I was Neapolitan. Why? So I could bring in a fine Neapolitan pest control to help with Queensberry's problem before it gets out of hand.

Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes Beholds his hereditary skies.

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.

It's over when you decide it's over," Norah says. "When you call it a night. The rest is just a matter of where the sun is in the sky. That has nothing to do with us.

The sky is a free asset in design, and nothing unnecessary should be planted that takes away the sky.

Swells, Marina? we ocean, depths, Marina? we sky!

Do not, do not, do not books for ever hammer at people like perpetual bells? When, between two books, silent sky appears: be glad

I would like to step out of my heart and go walking beneath the enormous sky.

Love is an infinite sky!

Yes, it is better to look from the window than not to look at all, but to look through the window cannot be compared to the windowless sky.

Without a wish, without a will, I stood upon that silent hill And stared into the sky until My eyes were blind with stars and still I stared into the sky.

Nothing can be colder than his head, when the lightnings of his imagination are playing in the sky.

it in every fair face, every fair sky, every fair flower.

The world is a dream, you say, and it’s lovely, sometimes. Sunset. Clouds. Sky.” “No. The image is a dream. The beauty is real. Can you see the difference?

I’ve always had a soft spot for dreamers – not those who waste their time thinking ‘what if’ but the ones who look to the sky and say ‘why can’t I shoot for the moon?’

Our baboon was going completely sky goddess - which is to say, nuts.

Stupid Sixteen year old kid falling from the sky! I'm late!

Tell Youth to play with Wine and Love and never bear away the scars! I may as well tilt up the sky and yet try not to spill the stars.

Each new development starts from something else. It does not come out of a blue sky. You make use of that which has already entered the mind.... That is the real reason for accumulating knowledge.

Lord, I have loved Your sky, Be it said against or for me, Have loved it clear and high, Or low and stormy...

As a confirmed astronomer I'm always for a better sky.

How oft, - be witness, Guardian of our days!... The sky besprinkled o'er with rainbow hues, As if angelic wings had wanton'd there.

Sometimes the fragment of a conversation, the color of the sky, the image in a dream, has everything to do with where the song begins.

Thou rising Sun! thou blue rejoicing Sky! Yea! every thing that is and will be free! Bear witness for me, whereso'er ye be, With what deep worship I have still adored The spirit of divinest Liberty.

The sky the sky- same as it always was.

I saw a star slide down the sky Blinding the north as it went by Too buring and too quick to hold Too lovely to be bought or sold Good only to make wishes on And then forever to be gone

The greenish sky glows up in misty reds, The purple shadows turn to brick and stone,The dreams wear thin, men turn upon their beds, And hear the milk-cart jangle by alone.

Her grandmother used to tell her that a pink sky meant someone in the distance had just fallen in love . . . .

I used to hate flying. I would sit there, rigid, convinced that if I relaxed, the plane would drop out of the sky.