Quotes
Quotes about Stars
Gone--flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.
Two men look out a window. One sees mud, the other sees the stars.
CONSIDERING THE VOID When I behold the charm of evening skies, their lulling endurance; the patterns of stars with names of bears and dogs, a swan, a virgin; other planets that the Voyager showed were like and so unlike our own, with all their diverse moons, bright discs, weird rings, and cratered faces; comets with their streaming tails bent by pressure from our sun; the skyscape of our Milky Way holding in its shimmering disc an infinity of suns (or say a thousand billion); knowing there are holes of darkness gulping mass and even light, knowing that this galaxy of ours is one of multitudes in what we call the heavens, it troubles me. It troubles me. -President Jimmy Carter- (he has written a volume of poetry as well as a novel, The Hornet's Nest, about the Revolutionary War).
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees.
When you reach for the stars, you may not quite get one, but you won't come up with a handful of mud either.
I admit that the generation which produced Stalin, Auschwitz and Hiroshima will take some beating; but the radical and universal consciousness of the death of God is still ahead of us; perhaps we shall have to colonize the stars before it is finally borne in upon us that God is not out there.
Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have The worship of the world, but no repose.
Gently on tiptoe Sunday creeps, Cheerfully from the stars he peeps, Mortals are all asleep below, None in the village hears him go; E'en chanticleer keeps very still, For Sunday whispered, 'twas his will.
But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
Two men look out through the same bars: One sees the mud, and one the stars.
Heaven's ebon vault, Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.
Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!
You can find your way across this country using burger joints the way a navigator uses stars.
Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths.
They say some of my stars drink whiskey. But I have found that the ones who drink milkshakes don't win many ballgames.
I come, I come! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountain with light and song: Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass, By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
Surely the stars are images of love.
The stars, Which stand as thick as dewdrops on the fields Of heaven.
Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof; When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?
They fought from heaven; the stars in their courses fought against Sisera.
The number is certainly the cause. The apparent disorder augments the grandeur, for the appearance of care is highly contrary to our ideas of magnificence. Besides, the stars lie in such apparent confusion, as makes it impossible on ordinary occasion to reckon them. This gives them the advantage of a sort of infinity.
Cry out upon the stars for doing Ill offices, to cross their wooing.
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky.
No one sees what is before his feet: we all gaze at the stars. [Lat., Quod est ante pedes nemo spectat: coeli scrutantur plagas.]
But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
