Kim Young-ha Quotes

Stand a little less between me and the sun.

Everything has a natural explanation. The moon is not a god, but a great rock, and the sun a hot rock.

A borrowed light, circular in form, it revolves about the earth, as if following the track of a chariot.

The Venus transit is not a spectacle the way a total solar eclipse is a spectacle.

In history class, I wrote a poem, 'The Royalists and the Roundheads.' I would write poems about driftwood in art class and little stories about the sun, moon, and stars in science class. Since not many kids were writing in class, I got away with it.

I'm working to bring celestial objects like the sun and moon into the spaces that we inhabit.

When you pass laterally, you screen away.

He sighed. "The clouds I can handle. But I can't fight with an eclipse.

I can see the sun, but even if I cannot see the sun, I know that it exists. And to know that the sun is there - that is living.

Sun and moon, sun and moon, time goes.

The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

Just like the moon, I'll step aside, and let your sun shine while I follow behind.

What the deuce is it to me?" he interrupted impatiently: "you say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work.

It was like noticing the sun. You couldn't help but see it, to turn to face the heat of it, to bask in the glory of it. But often when the sun is high in the sky, the moon is up there, too. A dim memory of what she will be in the night, but there, nonetheless, dim and misty, hard and white. At night, there is only the moon, the sun is nowhere to be seen. There are no distractions when the moon rules the sky.

Newton did not know what happened to the apple, and I can prove this when the next eclipse comes.

The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.

At least, the sun had the decency to stay the hell away from us.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

The bird Imagination, That flies so far, that dies so soon; Her wings are colored like the sun, Her breast is colored like the moon.

I hate the moon. I hate tides and earthquakes and volcanoes. I hate a world where things that have absolutely nothing to do with me can destroy my life and the lives of people I love.

Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run

Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop From low hung branches; little space they stop; But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek; Then off at once, as in a wanton freak: Or perhaps, to show their black, and golden wings Pausing upon their yellow flutterings.