Top 83 Quotes About Gray Sky
#1. Love, he thought. That too is love. The old miracle. It not only casts a rainbow of dreams against the gray sky of facts - it also sheds romantic light upon a heap of dung - a miracle and a mad mockery. Suddenly he had the strange feeling of having become, in a remote way, an accomplice.
Erich Maria Remarque
#2. The artist, busy and unsettled, can find a moment's peace - and even whole-being rejuvenation - by quietly attuning to a red sky, a gray sky, a black sky, a blue sky.
Eric Maisel
#3. It's about waking up in the morning with everything around you looking gray. Gray sky, gray sun, gray city, gray people, gray thoughts. And the only way out is to have another drink. Then you feel better. Then the colors come back.
Sergei Lukyanenko
#4. Even the solitude, I've actually grown to quite like ... I do like the feeling of getting into my little car, knowing for the next couple of hours I'll have only the roads, the big gray sky and my daydreams for company.
Kazuo Ishiguro
#5. Stepped out into the cold, collar high, under the slate gray sky. The air was smoking and the streets were dry, and I wasn't joking when I said goodbye.
Ani DiFranco
#7. Winter came and the city [Chicago] turned monochrome
black trees against gray sky above white earth. Night now fell in midafternoon, especially when the snowstorms rolled in, boundless prairie storms that set the sky close to the ground, the city lights reflected against the clouds
Barack Obama
#8. The stark gray sky and bare tree limbs feel more suited to her than the uncomplicated promise of sunny spring days.
Christina Baker Kline
#9. The enormous lake stretched flat and smooth and white all the way to the edge of the gray sky. Wagon tracks went away across it, so far that you could not see where they went; they ended in nothing at all.
Laura Ingalls Wilder
#10. I saw the spires of Oxford As I was passing by, The gray spires of Oxford Against a pearl-gray sky. My heart was with the Oxford men Who went abroad to die.
Winifred Mary Letts
#11. The summer had turned, the summer had gone; the autumn had dropped upon Bly and had blown out half our lights. The place, with its gray sky and withered garlands, its bared spaces and scattered dead leaves, was like a theater after the performance
all strewn with crumpled playbills.
Henry James
#12. The fog, which Meg knew from her father wasn't fog at all, but low-lying clouds, began to burn off as the morning sun continued its climb through a blue-gray sky. The Golden Gate Bridge came into focus right before her eyes through a cloud that caressed the crimson metal into view.
Tracy Ewens
#13. Ducking around twisted trees whose fingers are branches spread like cracked ceilings under gray sky.
Markus Zusak
#14. This is not a story for the faint of heart; this is the story of one woman's very real struggle through a world against her, the people who hurt her, her real life demons and the people who showed her that every gray sky, no matter how dark, has a sun waiting to break through.
S.L. Jennings
#15. His beauty did not blaze like Will's did in fierce colors and repressed fire, but it had its own muted perfection, the loveliness of snow falling against a silver gray sky.
Cassandra Clare
#16. The buildings appear to be glued together, mostly small houses and apartment blocks that looked nervous. There is murky snow spread out like carpet. There is concrete, empty hat-stand trees, and gray air.
Markus Zusak
#17. It was still very wet under the trees. A careless tug at a branch might flip cold rainbow-edged drops down your back. And the sky was gray as concrete. But they enjoyed the silence, the soft sucking ground matted with last year's needles.
Jean Thompson
#18. At forty feet, the sky is entirely black, but now starlight bleeds faintly down into the forest from between rushing gray clouds.
Ned Hayes
#19. You are the rainbow that adds color to my gray skies.
Avijeet Das
#20. When that small Siberian bird fell out of the sky over Gray's River, not once but twice, he brought with him the sweetness of chance in any place, the certainty of wonder in all places. And if that's not grace, I don't know what it.
Robert Michael Pyle
#21. Hasn't there always been a moon?"
"Bless you. Not in the slightest. I remember the day the moon came. We looked up in the sky
it was all dirty brown and sooty gray here then, not green and blue ...
Neil Gaiman
#22. Hers were the pale gray that made you think of nightfall and silver bullets and the edge of winter. The color that filled the sky before it was torn in half by lightening.
Jodi Picoult
#23. The speckled sky is dim with snow,
The light flakes falter and fall slow;
Athwart the hill-top, rapt and pale,
Silently drops a silvery veil; And all the valley is shut in
By flickering curtains gray and thin.
John Townsend Trowbridge
#24. His cream-colored three-piece suit, gray silk tie, and sky blue shirt. He's wearing
Kristen Callihan
#25. Patience. I colored patience gray, hung over with black clouds. I colored hope yellow, just like the sun we could see for a few short morning hours. Too soon the sun rose high in the sky & disappeared from view, leaving us bereft and staring at blue.
V.C. Andrews
#26. There are so many dreams beyond our nights, and so much sunshine beyond our gray walls. But we can't see it when we stay at home. There is so much sky above our roof. Is the door so old that it won't open, or are we at home because we're afraid of catching a chill?
Francoise Hardy
#27. When night falls people become as lonely as snowflakes floating down from a gray city sky. Now and again we fall past a streetlamp and are visible, a brief moment apart, REAL
we can be seen. We exist. Then we vanish into the gray darkness and the earth draws us to it.
Erik Fosnes Hansen
#28. Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing, under the sky's gray arch. Smiling, I watch the shaken elm boughs, knowing It is the wind of March.
John Greenleaf Whittier
#29. In the end, the tenses of the verbs settled into a common groove, the persons of the narrators, first and third (the latter with so many variants and identities), became one, and events thronged toward a day that began uncertainly and remained undecided, with a light gray film covering the sky.
Filip Florian
#30. I had seen the world as either white or black.
It is only when I read the pages of her diary that I understood why the sky looked so grey.
Sanhita Baruah
#31. Whenever a snowflake leaves the sky,It turns and turns to say "Good-by!Good-by, dear clouds, so cool and gray!"Then lightly travels on its way.
Mary Mapes Dodge
#32. It stretched forever until it met a gray-blue sky lined with pale cerise, a sky perpetually caught in the moments before sunrise.
Charlie N. Holmberg
#33. The sky is a tight gray sheet of Baroque prose pulled snug
Brandi L. Bates
#34. It took two days to cross that ashen scabland. The road beyond fell away on every side. It's snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down. He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom.
Cormac McCarthy
#35. Outside, gray clouds stretched to infinity. Were my parents and Mikey out there somewhere? I imagined them soaring like birds through the heavens, and wondered how, in a sky so endless, could there be no room for me?
Karen Amanda Hooper
#36. From this close, she could see the color of his eyes perfectly. They were a misty, shifting blue marbled with gray, like smoke rising through an early morning sky.
Maureen Johnson
#37. The meanest flowret of the vale, / The simplest note that swells the gale, / The common sun, the air, and skies, / To him are opening paradise.
Thomas Gray
#38. The world seemed leached of color. The river was the color of steel, the sky gray as a dove, the horizon a thick black painted line in the distance.
Cassandra Clare
#39. I have always loved the many moods of the sky at Rocky Flats. Turquoise and teal in summer, fiery red at sunset, iron gray when snow is on the way. The land rolls in waves of tall prairie grass bowed to the wind, or sprawling mantles of white frosted with a thin sheath of ice in winter.
Kristen Iversen
#40. His blue eyes were very dark ... Will's were the colour of the sky just on the edge of the night ...
Cassandra Clare
#41. A young Harvard student, traveled west to Oklahoma to live among the Kiowa and participate in the solemn rites of the peyote cult. In one photograph the land appears as a blur of dust, the sky fading to gray, the air darkened by soil worked loose by the wind, the farmhouses
Wade Davis
#42. The sky's gray and there's mizzle. It's so soft on my skin
it's nothing like rain. It's even softer than the lightest drizzle! Lift my face up, so it can kiss my skin. The Panopticon
Jenn Fagan
#43. The late afternoon sun, trapped beneath a wall of pewter, stained the clouds a yellowish gray, making the sky unusually bright. It felt surreal, as if the horizon had disappeared beyond the hills. She was stranded in a world of glass.
Sarah J. Maas
#44. All I can see is you. Why can't you understand that? No one shines as bright as you in the sky I'm looking at. To me there is no sun, no moon, and no stars in the sky, just endless miles of storm clouds and pretty, pretty gray.
Jay Crownover
#45. Every corner of the sky awkwardly showed up wearing the exact same thing, a moody gray dress accessorized with flat clouds. If North, South, East, and West were drag queens, this would be bad, very bad.
Edmond Manning
#46. Let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who's trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.
Cassandra Clare
#47. There's a chill in the air that feels like winter, or at least the start of it. This is my least-favorite time of year because everything dies or goes to sleep, and there's too much death and stillness, and the sky turns gray for so long, you think it will never be blue again.
Jennifer Niven
#48. The time will come, when thou shalt lift thine eyes To watch a long-drawn battle in the skies. While aged peasants, too amazed for words, Stare at the flying fleets of wondrous birds.
Thomas Gray
#49. I lay on the side of the dirt road next to a rocky trench, looked up to the gray morning sky, thankful for air, thankful for light, thankful to be alive.
Khaled Hosseini
#50. Late in the afternoon the sky changed to pale gray and there was rain in the air, the atmosphere close and stifling, and a silence clung heavily to the flat colorless plain.
Elmore Leonard
#51. Wasn't the worst, either. In the distance, low rolling hills stood, a pretty shade of brown, like coffee mash with just the right amount of pig's milk in it. The sky above the hills was the same dull gray of his childhood and his father's childhood and his grandfather's childhood. The only
Hugh Howey
#52. But in the east the sky was pale and through the gray woods came lanterns with wagons and horses, bringing Grandpa and Grandma and aunts and uncles and cousins.
Laura Ingalls Wilder
#53. She might be pointing to a doorway, or a person, or the sky. But such things were so common to my eyes, so undistinguished, that they would register as "nothing" I walked in a gray world of nothing.
Jerry Spinelli
#54. I took them all away, and if ever there was a time I needed distraction, this was it. In complete desolation, I looked at the world above. I watched the sky as it turned from silver to gray to the color of rain. Even the clouds were trying to get away.
Markus Zusak
#55. I could have screamed, but I didn't. I could have fought, but I didn't. I just lay there and let it happen, watching the winter-white sky go gray above me.
Maggie Stiefvater
#56. Gray sail against the sky, Gray butterfly! Have you a dream for going. Or are you the blind wind's blowing?
Dana Burnet
#57. The sky is low and gray and loose and seems to hang. There's something baggy about the sky.
David Foster Wallace
#58. The sky was painted over, a perfect uniform gray. On days like this the clouds probably absorbed the sounds from the surface of the earth. And not just sounds. All kinds of things. Perceptions, for example.
Haruki Murakami
#59. He's flying through Norway. Notice the fjords I created with hundreds of individually cut-out gray mosaic pieces? It's daylight there in the winter, it would be untruthful to have the night sky be so dark.
Felicia Day
#60. It's one of those dumb days where nothing's really wrong but nothing's really right either and the sky can't even choose to be white or gray.
Andrea Portes
#61. And if it's around October twentieth and everything smoky-smelling and the sky orange and ash gray at twilight, it seems Halloween will never come in a fall of broomsticks and a soft flap of bed-sheets around corners.
Ray Bradbury
#62. Most of [her ashes] fell into the river in a long gray curtain. But some was caught by the wind and blown upward toward the blue spring sky where it swirled a moment in the air, before dissolving into sunlight.
Kimberly Cutter
#63. The day stared back an empty gray, with not a speck of white to give character to the lifeless sky.
Ashley Madau
#64. The sky is the color of gray flannel, the darkness broken only by the dormer window of another early riser. The woman who lives in that attic painted her walls yellow, and the reflected light bounces out like a spring crocus. If light were sound, her window would be playing a concerto.
Eloisa James
#65. The morning arrived the way Alice imagined a whisper would: in tendrils of gray and threads of gold, quietly, quietly. The sky was illuminated with great care and deliberation, and she leaned back to watch it bloom.
Tahereh Mafi
#66. She and I are as far apart as the stars in the sky and the soles of my feet." Detective Sean Ryan ~Deception on Sable Hill by Shelley Gray
Shelley Gray
#67. The wind pounced on them hard. It had blown some of the cloud away and stretched the rest across the sky like rags on a loom to make a rug. A blue and white and gray rug like that would b pretty, thought Arry. But how do I know that? Do I know it?
Pamela Dean
#68. But the nice man had cold eyes. When interacting with his fascinated lady-harem, they had been blue. But when he turned his attention to me - however briefly - I could have sworn that they turned gray, the color of water beneath a sky from which snow will soon fall.
Stephen King
#69. The only thing here was a long gray ribbon of road, stretched like tape stuck by a toddler onto a rolling carpet of green hills under a huge arch of blue sky. This is Virginia. My Virginia, anyway.
Beth Harbison
#70. Night. Rain. A livid sky pierces the lacework
Of spires and towers, the silhouette of a Gothic
Town dim in the gray distance.
Paul Verlaine
#71. The winter sky has already turned black, but I could still see Wesley's gray eyes in the darkness. They were exactly the color of the sky before a thunderstorm.
Kody Keplinger
#72. Only a few leaves of deep red remain on the otherwise bare limbs of the maples; the oak leaves are russet and wrinkled; briefly through the trees is the glimpse of the bay, flat and steel-gray today with the overcast November sky.
Elizabeth Strout
#73. It took me an eternity to get through the toast, which tasted like lint and was gray from the sky. The sky foretold the end of the world.
Haruki Murakami
#74. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold.
J.K. Rowling
#75. The surface of the earth crusted. a thin hard crust,and as the sky became pale,so the earth became pale, pink in the red contry and white in the gray contry. (1) this describes the form of the book how the earth has been swallowed by the sun and allows you to assume that the farms are destroded
John Steinbeck
#76. It came very fast and the sun went a dull yellow and then everything was gray and the sky was covered and the cloud came on down the mountain and suddenly we were in it and it was snow.
Ernest Hemingway,
#77. The city lay cool and dim beneath a vaulting sky of high-scudding gray clouds. A gray shroud that covered the corpses of buildings, stiff in brick-and-steel rigor mortis, pale in their eternity of sooty death.
Harlan Ellison
#78. There was no one color that could paint Lena Duchannes. She was a red sweater and a blue sky, a gray wind and a silver sparrow, a black curl escaping from behind her ear.
Margaret Stohl
#79. The sky was gray, always a dismal gray that lightened and darkened as the day wore on. He had never known anything else.
A.M. Daily
#81. When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country.
J.K. Rowling
#82. The gray-green stretch of sandy grass,Indefinitely desolate;A sea of lead, a sky of slate;Already autumn in the air, alas!One stark monotony of stone,The long hotel, acutely white,Against the after-sunset lightWithers gray-green, and takes the grass's tone.
Arthur Symons
#83. I looked up from that churning amphitheater to the view beyond it.
The great, gray eye of the sky looked back at me, its mist-shrouded sun focusing
all the white and silent distances that poured from every point of the compass, hill after pale hill, to stall at my feet.
Sylvia Plath
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