Leonardo da Vinci Quotes

Among all of our uncertainties weather is the most basic. We can’t live without it and we can’t control it.

It didn’t rain for you, maybe, but it always rains for me. The sky shatters and rains shards of glass.

The earth turns, and the seasons, and for all his pride and power man cannot temper the winds or change their course. They are the unseen tides that shape our days and our years.

The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies.

Sometimes when it rains, it's not that simple, when the sky has reasons to cry.

When Janie looked out of her door she saw the drifting mists gathered in the west -- that cloud field of the sky -- to arm themselves with thunders and march forth against the world. Louder and higher and lower and wider the sound and motion spread, mounting, sinking, darking.

People in a hurry cannot think, cannot grow, nor can they decay. They are preserved in a state of perpetual puerility.

The limit is the sky, and I live on cloud. And I recognize my nemesis gon try, to put a finish in my shine. But pussy we'll hurt you, life in the power circle.

Were all yearning for a wedge of sky, aren't we? I suspect God plants these yearnings in us so we'll at least try and change the course of things. We must try, that's all.

Great American union rules with a fist, a smile, and a gun. Great American napalm lights up the sky like the sun.

Most people think great god will come from the skies, take away everything, and make everybody feel high. But if you know what life is worth, you will look for yours on earth.

The sky cannot have two suns.

You have to know why you're rushing about. It's OK to rush about but it's important to know what's driving you, the positives of it and the negatives of it.

hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.

The car shot forward straight into the circle of light, and suddenly Arthur had a fairly clear idea of what infinity looked like. It wasn’t infinity in fact. Infinity itself looks flat and uninteresting. Looking up into the night sky is looking into infinity—distance is incomprehensible and therefore meaningless. The chamber into which the aircar emerged was anything but infinite, it was just very very very big, so big that it gave the impression of infinity far better than infinity itself.

September 2001. A sunny day in New York. Many of us who are writers were at work on the transformation of life into a poem, story, a chapter of a novel, when terror pounced from the sky, and the world made witness to it.

Wholehearted living is not like trying to reach a destination. It's like walking toward a star in the sky. We never really 'arrive,' but we certainly know that we're heading in the right direction.

When you want to hurry something, that means you no longer care about it and want to get on to other things.

A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.

There's a starman waiting in the sky, he'd like to come and meet us, but he thinks he'd blow our minds.

December stillness, teach me through your trees That loom along the west, one with the land, The veiled evangel of your mysteries. While nightfall, sad and spacious, on the down Deepens, and dusk embues me where I stand, With grave diminishings of green and brown, Speak, roofless Nature, your instinctive words; And let me learn your secret from the sky, Following a flock of steadfast-journeying birds In lone remote migration beating by. December stillness, crossed by twilight roads, Teach me to travel far and bear my loads.

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly. I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes.

Sky is the part of creation in which Nature has done more for the sake of pleasing man, more for the sole and evident purpose of talking to him and teaching him, than in any other of her works, and it is just the part in which we least attend to her.