Markus Zusak Quotes

Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven, curtain round the vault of heaven.

The cloud controls the light ... It is the cloud that, holding the sun's rays in a sheaf as a giant holds a handful of spears, strikes the horizon, touches the extreme edge with a delicate revelation of light, or suddenly puts it out and makes the foreground shine.

You don't have to travel around the world to understand that the sky is blue everywhere

See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away Over the snowy peaks!

The sky itself is the eighth color of the rainbow, spread over the whole sky for us, all the time.

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.

When I look up and see the sun shining on the patch of white clouds up in the blue, I begin to think how it would feel to be up somewhere above it winging swiftly thought the clear air, watching the earth below, and the men on it, no bigger than ants.

The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!

Woman, nude, is the blue sky. Clouds and garments are an obstacle to contemplation. Beauty and infinity would be gazed upon unveiled.

Personally, I like a chocolate-colored sky, dark, dark chocolate.

Over the river a golden ray of sun came through the hosts of leaden rain clouds.

Nature paints not; In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven; With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds; And flying vapors.

But the sky was never quite the same shade of blue again.

There are moments on most days when I feel a deep and sincere gratitude, when I sit at the open window, and there is a blue sky or moving clouds.

With all of the visual distraction constantly inundating us in the form of our devices and screens, I really derive a great deal of pleasure from watching the sun rise and set, admiring clouds as they change shape across the sky, watching tree leaves and blossoms undulate in the breeze....these treats foment an ocular-cleansing refreshment to my way of thinking.

Who knows whither the clouds have fled? In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake; And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, The heart forgets its sorrow and ache.

What are clouds, but an excuse for the sky? What is life, but an escape from death?

The sky was as blue as a stupid postcard, and the islands were as green as islands.

The sky never changes: it is the cloud that is changing.

A few amber clouds floated in the sky without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple-green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven.

Raindrops blossom brilliantly in the rainbow, and change to flowers in the sod, but snow comes in full flower direct from the dark, frozen sky.

The clouds, - the only birds that never sleep.

Sometimes from this hillside just after sunset The rim of the sky takes on a tinge Of the palest green, like the flesh of a cucumber When you peel it carefully.

Far clouds of feathery gold, Shaded with deepest purple, gleam Like islands on a dark blue sea.

Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows in yonder West; the fair, frail palaces, The fading Alps and archipelagoes and great cloud continents of sunset-seas.