Gilbert K. Chesterton Quotes

The moon, like a flower in heaven's high bower, with silent delight sits and smiles on the night.

Perhaps the crescent moon smiles in doubt at being told that it is a fragment awaiting perfection.

Under your skin the moon is alive.

The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to.

But if cattle and horses or lions had hands, or were able to draw with their hands and do the work that men can do, horses would draw the forms of the gods like horses, and cattle like cattle, and they would make their bodies such as they each had themselves.

Ever since I was a kid, I have loved the Moon. It's always there and continues to inspire humanity.

I'm really fascinated by the moon.

At night, the moon, a pregnant woman, walks cautiously over the slippery heavens.

...the moon that hung over the garden like some great priceless pearl, flawed and blemished with grey shadowy ridges as only a very great beauty can risk being.

There's the moon asking to stay long enough for the clouds to fly me away

The new moon rode high in the crown of the metropolis. Shinin', like "Who on top of this?

The full moon - the mandala of the sky.

Does the moon play only silver when it strums the galaxy?

We ran as if to meet the moon.

A book is a physical object in a world of physical objects. It is a set of dead symbols. And then the right reader comes along, and the words—or rather the poetry behind the words, for the words themselves are mere symbols—spring to life, and we have a resurrection of the word.

You gazed at the moon and fell in the gutter.

And suddenly the moon withdraws her sickle from the lightening skies, and to her sombre cavern flies, wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.

And he beholds the moon; like a rounded fragment of ice filled with motionless light.

The Moon is a white strange world, great, white, soft-seeming globe in the night sky, and what she actually communicates to me across space I shall never fully know. But the Moon that pulls the tides, and the Moon that controls the menstrual periods of women, and the Moon that touches the lunatics, she is not the mere dead lump of the astronomist. . . . When we describe the Moon as dead, we are describing the deadness in ourselves. When we find space so hideously void, we are describing our own unbearable emptiness.

the moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy

It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the Moon.

The moon is so beautiful. It's a big silver dollar, flipped by God. And it landed scarred side up, see? So He made the world.

There's the moon trying to look romanticMoon's too old that's her troubleAren't we all?