I didn't invent the rainy day. I just own the best umbrella.
My bed was pushed up hard against the wall just below the window. I loved to sleep with the windows open. Rainy nights were the best of all: I would open my windows and put my head on my pillow and close my eyes and feel the wind on my face and listen to the trees sway and creak. There would be raindrops blown onto my face, too, if I was lucky, and I would imagine that I was in my boat on the ocean and that it was swaying with the swell of the sea. I did not imagine that I was a pirate, or that I was going anywhere. I was just on my boat.
Rainy day people all know there's no sorrow they can't rise above.
Until you've been kissed on a rainy Parisian afternoon - you've never been kissed.
Happiness is like the weather. Sometimes it’s rainy, sometimes it’s sunny, and you gotta just go through and accept what’s there in front of you.
You sleep with a dream of summer weather, wake to the thrum of rain—roped down by rain. Nothing out there but drop-heavy feathers of grass and rainy air. The plastic table on the terrace has shed three legs on its way to the garden fence. The mountains have had the sense to disappear. It's the Celtic temperament—wind, then torrents, then remorse. Glory rising like a curtain over distant water. Old stonehouse, having steered us through the dark, docks in a pool of shadow all its own. That widening crack in the gloom is like good luck. Luck, which neither you nor tomorrow can depend on.
Vancouver is one of my favorite places on earth. It's gray and rainy there a lot of the time, but for some reason, even though it's gray and rainy, I feel like it's a sunny day.
The worst thing is a rainy day with no laughs
She is a cat with a burning tail, an ant under a microscope, a fly about to lose its wings to the curious plucking fingers of a third-grader on a rainy day, a game for bored children with no bodies and the whole universe at their feet.
Don't you just love these long rainy afternoons in New Orleans when an hour isn't just an hour — but a little bit of eternity dropped in your hands — and who knows what to do with it?
I wonder what ants do on rainy days?
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket / Never let it fade away / Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket / Save it for a rainy day
Stew's so comforting on a rainy day.
I do pity unlearned gentlemen on a rainy day.
In politics, sunny days and rainy days can change very quickly.
That includes not cutting down the rain forest, and stop polluting the ocean because once we kill the coral reefs and the rain forest, this earth is toast.
I think we should stop drinking bottled water. There's no need to be drinking it if you're living in western communities. The other thing I would suggest - and I feel it particularly here in Australia, because we have very severe drought - is to be aware of how much you're actually consuming. Right now, it's very rainy, but that doesn't mean we can drink all the water we want. Conserving and constantly thinking, "how much do I really need?" should definitely be part of our vocabulary.
The moral sense reappears today with the same morning newness that has been from of old the fountain of beauty and strength. You say there is no religion now. 'Tis like saying in rainy weather, There is no sun, when at that moment we are witnessing one of its superlative effects.
I think the genetics of being Irish are that you sort of prefer when it's rainy and cloudy. It's just genetic.
There are rainy days in autumn and stormy days in winter when the rocking chair in front of the fire simply demands an accompanying book.
I don't think suicide is so terrible. Some rainy winter Sundays when there's a little boredom, you should always carry a gun. Not to shoot yourself, but to know exactly that you're always making a choice.
What can it be about low temperatures that sharpens the edges of objects?
A man has to work so hard so that something of his personality stays alive. A tomcat has it so easy, he has only to spray and his presence is there for years on rainy days.
The sky is always beautiful.Even when it's dark or rainy or cloudy,it's still beautiful to look at....it'll be there no matter what...and I know it'll always be beautiful.
Even now, as I write this, I can still feel that tightness. And I want you to feel it--the wind coming off the river, the waves, the silence, the wooded frontier. You're at the bow of a boat on the Rainy River. You're twenty-one years old, you're scared, and there's a hard squeezing pressure in your chest. What would you do? Would you jump? Would you feel pity for yourself? Would you think about your family and your childhood and your dreams and all you're leaving behind? Would it hurt? Would it feel like dying? Would you cry, as I did?
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