As I lay me down to sleep, this I pray. That you will hold me, dear. Though I'm far away, I whisper your name into the sky. And I will wake up happy.
Take my hand and we'll go riding through the sunshine from above. We'll find happiness together in the summer skies of love.
The first time I ever saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes and the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and empty sky, my love.
I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, yours until the rivers run dry. In other words, until the day I day.
You wave your hands up to the sky, kick your legs to the side. Are you ready, let's do the Freddie.
Blood moon risin' in a sky of black dust, tell me baby, who do you trust?
Moon appears to shine and light the sky with the help of some fireflies, wonder how they have the power to shine?
Today they're praising you sky high, place you on a pedestal and tomorrow they don't want to know you.
The president's claim that Social Security is going broke is misleading at best. The sky is not falling, although there is no doubt that the system needs to be strengthened.
During the winter my attention was attracted to the changes in the stars and planets in the sky.
There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good stories seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky.
I can see thru mountains watch me disappear, I can even touch the sky. Swallowing the colors of the sounds I hear, am I just a crazy guy? You bet.
The advice I continually give to young writers is this, "Learn to paint pictures with words." Not just once upon a time, but ... In the long secret dust of ages, beneath a blue forgotten sky, where trade winds caress the sun bleached shores of unknown realms ... See, as much as there are words in poetry, there is a poetry in words. Use it, stay faithful to the path you have set your heart upon and follow it.
Traveling is irritating to me, but not driving. Going to the airport makes me nervous, but when I set out to just take a leisurely drive, it's blue skies and puffy clouds and time.
The sky never changes: it is the cloud that is changing.
Everybody prays whether [you think] of it as praying or not. The odd silence you fall into when something very beautiful is happening or something very good or very bad. The ah-h-h-h! that sometimes floats up out of you as out of a Fourth of July crowd when the sky-rocket bursts over the water. The stammer of pain at somebody else s pain. The stammer of joy at somebody else's joy. Whatever words or sounds you use for sighing with over your own life. These are all prayers in their way.
Of all the creatures that creep, swim, or fly, Peopling the earth, the waters, and the sky, From Rome to Iceland, Paris to Japan, I really think the greatest fool is man.
Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise; My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.
Most people are completely oblivious to eternity. They look at the sky at night and they think that's eternity; it is just the senses having contact in the sense world. There are other dimensions.
You're looking for purity, something that just isn't all garbled, someplace where you can feel the earth again, where you can feel what the wind feels like, where you can see the stars at night, and actually, not just look at little dots in the sky, but feel an energy from them.
The sky is an infinite movie to me. I never get tired of looking at what's happening up there.
If you don't believe there's some organising principle, or somebody up in the sky pulling the strings, then it can be very stressful. And nature itself is very arbitrary - it's not malevolent or benevolent; it doesn't even know we're here.
As a female pilot, the sacred rose garden in my heart is the motherland's blue sky.
Yes, there are siddha powers. Yes, you can heal people, transform attention. You can flood the sky with light at night so you can't even see the stars. But the greatest miracle is the spirit - it is light
All life is sacred. Since life is an affirmation of the Creator, I shall live on, even when I am gone. In trailing clouds of glory shall I return to my Creator only to find that I had never really left. I shall walk among the lilies of the field and leave my trail in stardust in the sky.
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