Rain Quotes

After the rain cometh the fair weather.

Aesop

Nature like man sometimes weeps for gladness.

Anonymous

It never rains but it pours.

English Proverb

The rain cometh down and the snow from heaven and retumeth not thither but watereth the earth and maketh it bring forth and bud that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater.

Bible

Be still sad heart and cease repining Behind the clouds is the sun still shining Thy fate is the common fate of all Into each life some rain must fall Some days must be dark and dreary.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass.

Bible

I know Sir John will go though he was sure it would rain cats and dogs.

Vexed sailors curse the rain for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.

After the rain cometh the fair weather.

Aesop

Nature like man sometimes weeps for gladness.

Anonymous

It never rains but it pours.

English Proverb

The rain cometh down and the snow from heaven and retumeth not thither but watereth the earth and maketh it bring forth and bud that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater.

Bible

Be still sad heart and cease repining Behind the clouds is the sun still shining Thy fate is the common fate of all Into each life some rain must fall Some days must be dark and dreary.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass.

Bible

I know Sir John will go though he was sure it would rain cats and dogs.

Vexed sailors curse the rain for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.

She felt a tightness in her chest and sent for Dr Simcox.'What's the trouble?''Look out there, that's the trouble! It's so green and quiet and it's always bloody raining.''That's England, Mrs Mallard-Greene. I'm afraid there's no known cure for it.

Every time it rains, the soil counts every drop to know exactly how many times to thank to God!

Mehmet Murat ildan

The wind has shifted to the East. A storm isn't far off. I can smell the moisture in the air, a fetid, living thing. Isolated drops fall, licking at my hands, my face, my dress. The quests squawk in surprise, turn their palms up to the sky as if questioning it, and dash for cover.

So that's what we did - rocketing down Sixth Avenue, dashing around the rest of the post-concert crowd, splashing our tracks until our ankles were soaked. You took the lead, and I started to lose my sprint. But then you looked back, stopped, and waited for me to catch up, for me to take your hand, for us to continue to run in the rain, drenched and enchanted, my words to Amanda no longer feeling like a requirement, but a foretelling.

...I looked in the window, wanting to stay - it rained, yet I remained...because you were so lovely...

Like sheep which, having been driven to a pasture, can now spread out at their leisure, the clouds began to drift. Afternoon sunlight sliced through into the still waters. The boomerang hung in the sky, and the boy thought he would have to find a new word for the way the colours gl

Terry Pratchett

Rain"Oh amiable rainWasher of treesand roofswho has prepared themforthe pink rayof evening("Poems")

Charlotte Gardelle

I wish that life could be carefree, sunny, never cloudy- But you said that I would be in Your arms when things get crazy- so when the storm doesn't go away- I have decided to sing in the rain.

The sky's inclemency stirs up the angry winds;the watery clouds are soaking with ceaseless rain.The turbulent Vltava, swollen with rainy waves,Bursting, impetuous, breaks through its river banks.

Elizabeth Jane Weston

The fig tree had dropped its fruit all over the ground. Ripe figs lay in the dust, exploded, bloody, as if the sky had rained organs.

And in this moment, like a swift intake of breath, the rain came.

Instead,she's as stillas a leaf-littered pond,dark water evaporating,waiting desperately for rain.

Time itself is a thing, so it seems to me, that stands solidly like a fence of iron palings with its endless row of years; and we flow past like Gyoll, on our way to a sea from which we shall return only as rain.

Under the bridge, traffic above us and coats around us, hearts thudding with the steady perfection of this moment, I thought of every word I had never before dared to think about him.Future. Hope.And love, as the rain slowed to a misty trickle through the long and beautiful night.

I know your eyes in the morning sunI feel you touch me in the pouring rainAnd the moment that you wander far from meI wanna feel you in my arms again

Bee Gees

Rain makes the night -- and us -- smaller, softer, more forthright.

Rob Kalin

Outside the drizzling rain had begun again. It pattered around the house, and on the roofs and eaves, like a million, tiny, stealthy feet: softly, as though the night were teeming with a host of minute, dark beings.

Evangeline Walton

I used to sit in front of my father's Jag, watching the raindrops run their kamikaze suicide missions from one edge of the windshield to the wiper blade.

They looked so familiar that for a moment Claude feared he had doubled back to Mrs. Merritt's city, until a sudden wave of water blinded his wipers and drove him along with everyone else to the curb, where the crackling radio reported an old man had just now been swept from his backyard by a cloudburst, the latest in a series deluging Tulsa. Clinging there to the side of the hill, no hand brake, Claude rode out the storm, stuffing blankets into the cracks under the doors, watching overhead drips as best he could with the babyseat. When the car next in front crept away from the curb, Claude followed as far as a gas station. There he wondered aloud what lay ahead, but the attendant couldn't say, having swum to work just five minutes ago. Now as Claude pulled away the rain suddenly ceased, it seemed from exhaustion, and for the next hundred miles he spun his dial to catch the latest reports: that old man was still missing, he had last been seen floating downhill toward the river, he had been found, he was dead, he was dying, he was still missing... Claude turned off the radio, for he was beyond range of Tulsa, and Joplin had not heard the news yet. He raced in silence toward the night which he knew already had begun not far ahead.

still other winters average their rain months into a long, cold season of relentless sog and little color. At such times, looking out through the spattered glass, I feel, deep in some spongy, unignorable organ, that we will have floods, and damage, and losses; we will have gray till the cows come home, and there will be no more cows--they'll all just rot, drown, or simply wash away. We will have rain until the very hills dissolve. And when the dirty cotton swaddling of fog finally falls away, we will all be desperate for vital signs.

Robert Michael Pyle

Back then, Billy imagined that drops of rain were unanswered prayers falling back to earth.

A sudden damp coldness clung to the air around us. I lifted my head, eyeing the burnt orange sky. One drop of water fell, splashing off my cheek. Then the sky opened up, drenching us in cold rain within seconds.I sighed. "Really, it has to rain?

Jennifer L. Armentrout

Trying to remember old dreams. A voice. Who came in.And meanwhile the rain, all day, all evening,quiet steady sound. Before it grew too darkwatched the blue iris leaning under the rain,the flame of the poppies guttered and went out.A voice. Almost recalled. There have been timesthe gods entered. Entered a room, a cave?A long enclosure where I was, the fourth wall of ittoo distant or too dark to see. The birds are silent,no moths at the lit windows. Only a swaying rosebushpierces the table’s reflection, raindrops gazing from it.There have been hands laid on my shoulders.What has been said to me,how has my life replied?The rain, the rain...

Denise Levertov

We hovered above the moment like two rain clouds

Tiffanie DeBartolo

Don't normal people run in the rain? Even abnormal people, most of them anyway, the only people I can think of who walk in the rain are tree buffers, bag ladies, and total psychos.

APPROACHRain is falling. Winter approaches. I drive towards it. In the slow rain. In the semi-darkness. Cello music is playing in the car. The deep sad sound of the cello. It almost swamps me. Routine endeavours to swamp me. The everyday paying of bills.But I paint men walking in a city of icebergs and crystal. Some of the icebergs are red. I paint a woman swimming in green wavy water. Surrounded by desert mesas. Bright orange in the sunlight. With darker orange for shadows. I paint two people. With purple and pink and yellow and blue circles overlapping the boundaries of their bodies. Dancing.Life is not ordinary. When I see you tonight I will press my lips to your eyelids. Each one in turn. I will rub my fingertips over the skin on the back of your hands and around your wrists. I will sigh. I will growl. I will whinny. I will gallop into your smile. One sharp foot after the other.

Cuddle up. Rain always stops. It always stops. It always does. -The Brown Cape

Ellen Gilchrist

It was a bad night to be about with such a feeling in one's heart. The rain was cold, pitiless and increasing. A damp, keen wind blew down the cross streets leading from the river. The fumes of the gas works seemed to fall with the rain. The roadway was muddy; the pavement greasy; the lamps burned dimly; and that dreary district of London looked its very gloomiest and worst.("The Old House In Vauxhall Road")

Charlotte Riddell

What the mud had been doing with itself, or where it came from, who could say? But it seemed to collect in a moment, as a crowd will, and in five minutes to have splashed all the sons and daughters of Adam.

Charles Dickens

We were running all over the front lawn and under the rainspouts, barefooted, in our underpants, with the rain pelting down, straight cold gray rain of Delta summers, wonderful rain. -Mexico

Ellen Gilchrist

A pure drop of rain may fall on a beautiful water lily or on a dirty mud pond! This is exactly what happens when we are born!

Mehmet Murat ildan

At five-thirty the rain began to fall in great, heavy drops which bounced off the pavement before they spread out into black spots. At the same time thunder rumbled from the direction of Charenton and an eddy of wind lifted the dust, carried away the hats of passers-by who took to their heels and who, after a few confused moments, were all in the shelter of doorways or under the awnings of cafe terraces. Street pedlars of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine scurried about with an apron or a sack over their heads, pushing their carts as they tried to run. Rivulets already began to flow along the two sides of the street, the gutters sang, and on every floor you could see people hurriedly closing their windows.

Georges Simenon

would you like to dance in the rain?

I had gotten so used to the taste of rain that I forgot what the sun tasted like. Bittersweet.

When I could hold my eyes open long enough, I did stare up at the rain pelting down on me. I’ve never looked at it like that, straight up into the sky, and while I flinched more than I could actually see, when I could see it was absolutely beautiful. Like each drop rocketing towards me was separate from the thousands of others and for a suspended moment in time, I could glimpse it and see its delicate facets. I saw the gray clouds churning above me and felt the car shake when the wind from the traffic pushed against it. I shivered even though it’s warm enough to swim. But nothing I saw or felt or heard was as warm and fascinating as Andrew’s closeness.

I don't know if there is actually more rain here in England, or if it was just that the rain seemed to be so deliberately annoying. Every drop hit the window with a peevish "Am I bothering you? Does this make you cold and wet? Oh, sorry.

Maureen Johnson

English rain feels obligatory, like paperwork. It dampens already damn days and slicks the stones.

Maureen Johnson

...I prefer rain -sometimes I feel sunlight will turn me to stone - perhaps I'm a Troll...

Ah! Thou gifest me such hope and courage, and I haf nothing to gif back but a full heart and these empty hands," cried the Professor, quite overcome.Jo never, never would learn to be proper, for when he said that as they stood upon the steps, she just put both hands into his, whispering tenderly, "Not empty now," and, stooping down, kissed her Friedrich under the umbrella.

Louisa May Alcott

The sound of thunder, the smell of rain. The earth giving birth to another season. Nature's labor pains...beautiful.

Not even a thousand tears can wash away the feelings I still have for you.

Then there was a fine noise of rushing water from the crown of an oak at his back, as if a spigot there had been turned. Then the noise of fountains came from the crowns of all the tall trees. Why did he love storms, what was the meaning of his excitement when the door sprang open and the rain wind fled rudely up the stair, why had the simple task of shutting the windows of an old house seem fitting and urgent, why did the first watery notes of a storm wind have for him the unmistakable sound of good news, cheer, glad tidings?

Those who love the rain much cannot long remain dry!

Mehmet Murat ildan

When the rain stops falling, the pain comes fooling.

Faqdil

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