There’s a moment after the sunset When the sky is suddenly green, And the world stands hushed and waiting For the first white stars to convene; When you see that emerald sky You’ll know the reason why There’s not another place I’d rather be.
The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Where under crawling coop’d we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help for it As impotently moves as you or I. (Omar Khayyam)
There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky; there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul.
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
Every cloud must have a silver lining.
It was curious to think that the sky was the same for everybody, in Eurasia or Eastasia as well as here. And the people under the sky were also very much the same – everywhere, all over the world, hundreds or thousands of millions of people just like this, people ignorant of one another’s existence, […]
I think the sky is blue because it’s a shift from black through purple to blue, and it has to do with where the light is. You know, the farther we get into darkness, and there’s a shifting of color of light into the blueness, and I think as you go farther and farther away […]
A sky as pure as water bathed the stars and brought them out.
Hamlet: Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel? Polonius: By th’ mass and ’tis, like a camel indeed. Hamlet: Methinks it is like a weasel. Polonius: It is backed like a weasel. Hamlet: Or like a whale. Polonius: Very like a whale. (Hamlet)