Top 85 White Moon Quotes
#1. All through the deep blue night The fountain sang alone; It sang to the drowsy heart of the satyr carved in stone. The fountain sang and sang But the satyr never stirred- Only the great white moon In the empty heaven heard.
Sara Teasdale
#2. She made up prayers and said them,
Worshipping unknown gods with unknown singing,
Her customary magic, which would cover
The white moon's face and darken the sun with cloud.
Ovid
#3. The lake water was reinventing the forest and the white moon above it, and wolves lapped up the cold reflection of the sky.
Karen Russell
#4. The rain drags Black Sun down, but the rain dried by White Moon.
Tite Kubo
#5. I try to get centered: Watching white moon face The stars never feel anger Blah, blah, blah, the end
Chuck Palahniuk
#6. I stood with my arms stretched wide and trembling, and I felt as if the black sky was my body and I felt as if the white moon, far above me, unwrinkled and shining, was my mind.
Karen Russell
#7. Over the tops of it, beginning to dusk under a young white moon, trailed a wavering ghost of smoke, and at the end of it I came upon the Pocket Hunter making a dry camp in the friendly scrub.
Mary Hunter Austin
#8. - You may always talk to me, honey ... - Started suddenly bright white moon. - The stars are too young to give you a wise advice, yet.
Galina Nelson
#9. Red like blood White like bone Red like solitude White like silence Red like the beastly instinct White like a god's heart Red like thawing hatred White like a frozen, pained cry Red like the night's hungry shadows Like a sigh piercing the moon it shines white and shatters red
Tite Kubo
#11. Take your time in everything, until you feel the pull within yourself. Do not let yourself be guided by fear, or even by desire. And certainly not by the will of others ... Like the moon and the tides, the human heart has many phases. Wait for them. They will not be rushed.
Jenny White
#12. He was looking up at the sky, where a pale crescent of moon darted in between thick sweeps of cloud and fog. Flakes of white snow had fallen and mixed with his black hair. His cheeks and lips were flushed with the cold. He looked more handsome than she had ever remembered him.
Cassandra Clare
#13. Inside plum trees stood in a row, flowers lifted their pale throats to the moon and stars, a magnolia held its tight-closed buds like white candles in its green hands.
Marisa De Los Santos
#14. Without a torch, I stumbled along the paths. The night was dismal. A partial moon hovered bitter and white on the horizon. It was the perfect night for murder.
Kimberley Griffiths Little
#15. The moon is bleached as white as wool,
And just dropping under;
Every star is gone but three,
And they hang far asunder,
There's a sea-ghost all in gray,
A tall shape of wonder!
Jean Ingelow
#16. The Snow White the midnight the moon tales of the mechanics
Marissa Meyer
#17. The moon was round and white, sitting small at the top of the sky. It seemed the right size to sit in the bowl on the bullet mold. That was what I wished. I wished for the moon instead of lead.
Sue Monk Kidd
#18. An infinite
Resignedness
Rains where the white
Mists opalesce
In the moon-shower ...
Paul Verlaine
#19. My theory is because I'm Asian and white I sort of look like the future. I'm the melting pot.
Moon Bloodgood
#20. It was still white, and it still glowed under the moon, and the cobbles were still as rounded as old skulls, and the leaves still looked like splashes of blood across the stones, but Rhea felt better. She was still going somewhere terrible, but she had a hedgehog, dammit.
T. Kingfisher
#21. The floss-silk manes tossed up like the crest of a breaking wave ... Light ran and glittered on them. They were obedient ... you would have sworn ... as the white horses of the wave crests are to pull of the moon.
Mary Stewart
#22. A full moon rose in the pale evening sky and glowed with a rich white inner light that brought to mind, but perfectly, the creamy inside of an Oreo cookie. (Eventually on the trail everything reminds you of food.)
Bill Bryson
#23. Outside the window
Sky and earth exchange silver.
In the moonlight I forget I'm human.
Wang Xiaoni
#24. It's long since I've gone to the East Mountains.
How many seasons have the tiny roses bloomed?
White clouds - unblown - fall apart.
In whose court has the bright moon dropped?
Li Bai
#25. Rochester: I am to take mademoiselle to the moon, and there I shall seek a cave in one of the white valleys among the volcano-tops, and mademoiselle shall live with me there, and only me.
Charlotte Bronte
#26. Where is it?" I asked, willing him to tell me.
He laughed suddenly, and I could hear the full-throated, grating sound of the white bear's laughter in it.
"East of the sun and west of the moon," he said.
Edith Pattou
#27. Light, show yourself pure and strong,
Save a man from evil's throng,
Take a form, small and white,
Give this girl the strength to fight.
Clara Diane Thompson
#28. Isn't that what love means, to fill ordinary, commonplace, conventional things with magic and significance, not to need the moon and white scent-heavy flowers at night?
Elizabeth Bibesco
#29. But God is only a white cold eye, a quarter-moon poised above the smoke, blinking, blinking, as the city is gradually pounded to dust.
Anthony Doerr
#30. For the past two years, President Obama has promised our children the moon, stars, rainbows, unicorns and universal health care for all. But the White House Santa's cradle-to-grave entitlement mandates are a spectacularly predictable bust.
Michelle Malkin
#31. Said the Sun to the Moon-'When you are but a lonely white crone,
And I, a dead King in my golden armour somewhere in a dark wood,
Remember only this of our hopeless love
That never till Time is done
Will the fire of the heart and the fire of the mind be one
Edith Sitwell
#32. Stories as written are progressive, sentence must build upon sentence as brick upon brick, yet the beauty of this life in its endless mystery is circular. Sun & moon, spheres endlessly circling. Black man, full circle; white man, bisected circle; life, the third circle, on & on, & round & round.
Richard Flanagan
#33. My mom would say that crying for the moon is a lot like sitting in a rocking chair: It keeps you busy but it won't get you anywhere.
Karen White
#34. To see things in black and white is to see the basics, and I would recommend to any designer of gardens that he go out and look at his work by the light of the moon.
Eleanor Perenyi
#35. To commemorate the 40th anniversary of the moon landing, the three astronauts from Apollo 11 visited the White House. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were allowed to set foot inside the White House, while Michael Collins was forced to drive around in circles outside.
Conan O'Brien
#36. Then, as though it had been waiting on a near by roof for their arrival, the moon came slanting suddenly through the vines and turned the girl's face the color of white roses.
F Scott Fitzgerald
#37. Above us, the moon hangs like a fat blister on the feel of the sky, ready to burst in a spray of viscous white pus
chap 22.
Jonathan Tropper
#38. I start pulling my guts out
those red silk cords,
spiraling skyward,
and I'm climbing them
past the moon and the sun,
past darkness
into white.
I mean to live.
Ai
#39. God was something I did not understand the way kids who went to church did. They said God was a man in the sky with white hair and a beard like Santa. This seemed strange to me. When I thought of God, I imagined only mist over the pond, a sliver of moon in a dark sky, scatterings of stars, birdsong.
Melissa Coleman
#40. Legend has it that while drinking wine in a boat on the river, [8th century Chinese poet Li Po] tried to grab the moon's reflection on the surface and tumbled in, which is probably the poet's equivalent of dying bravely in battle.
Matthew White
#41. I believe that the essence of photography is black and white. Color is but a deviance.
Sarah Moon
#42. Our mother had taught us that when the moon was white, reappearing after its absence, it was showing us that what had been hidden could easily become whole again.
Alice Hoffman
#44. A cat peeped in the window. It had one white paw. One night it had decided to dip it into the reflection of the moon in a fountain to see what would happen.
Heather O'Neill
#45. The great thing about the moon landing is that my grandmother got the first color TV in order to be able to see the moon landing that was in black and white.
Alfonso Cuaron
#46. The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,
White as a knuckle and terribly upset.
It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet
With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.
Sylvia Plath
#47. Perhaps the House had heard Harvey wishing for a full moon, because when he and Wendell traipsed upstairs and looked out the landing window, there
hanging between the bare branches of the trees
was a moon as wide and as white as a dead man's smile.
Clive Barker
#48. Lonely as God, and white as a winter moon, Mount Shasta starts up sudden and solitary from the heart of the great black forests of Northern California
Joaquin Miller
#49. Everything that is dead quivers. Not only the things of poetry, stars, moon, wood, flowers, but even a white trouser button glittering out of a puddle in the street ... Everything has a secret soul, which is silent more often than it speaks.
Wassily Kandinsky
#50. The sun was good. The men of the llano were men of the sun. The men of the farms along the river were men of the moon. But we were all children of the white sun.
Rudolfo Anaya
#51. You're the first, the last, and my everything and the answer to all my dreams. You're my sun, my moon, my guiding star, my kind of wonderful, that's what you are
Barry White
#52. Oft in the silence of the night,
When the lonely moon rides high,
When wintry winds are whistling,
And we hear the owl's shrill cry,
In the quiet, dusky chamber,
By the flickering firelight,
Rising up between two sleepers,
Comes a spirit all in white.
Louisa May Alcott
#53. Darkness disturbed
By the haunting white moonlight
Grey half clouds fail to contain
The moon's lust for the night.
Sreesha Divakaran
#54. There, on our favourite seat, the silver light of the moon struck a half-reclining figure, snowy white ... something dark stood behind the seat where the white figure shone, and bent over it. What it was, whether man or beast, I could not tell.
Bram Stoker
#55. I've read that a naked eye can see six thousand stars in the hundred billion galaxies, but I couldn't believe it, what with the sky white with starlight. I saw a million stars with one eye and two million with both.
William Least Heat-Moon
#56. You may as well attempt to colonise the moon with white mice as publish a volume of poetry'.
Victoria Clayton
#57. The moon was gone, but to the magician's eyes the unicorn was the moon, cold and white and very old, lighting his way to safety, or to madness.
Peter S. Beagle
#59. The moon ... is a mad woman holding up her dress So that her white belly shines. Haughty, Impregnable, Ridiculous, Silent and white as a debauched queen.
Yevgeny Zamyatin
#60. Far above him a few white clouds were racing windily after a pale gibbous moon. Drink all morning, they said to him, drink all day. This is life!
Malcolm Lowry
#61. The beauty Snow White's got has nothing to do with him. She's scarred up and suspicious and shameless. Her pretty's not for him. It's like saying the moon's got a fine figure on her. Maybe true, but what good is that to a man? Snow
Catherynne M Valente
#62. I like the word clandestine. It feels medieval. Sometimes I think of words as being alive. If clandestine were alive, it would be a pale little girl with hair the color of fall leaves and a dress as white as the moon.
Carol Rifka Brunt
#63. The moon is looking down into the canyon, and how marvelously the great rocks kindle to her light! Every dome, and brow, and swelling boss touched by her white rays, glows as if lighted with snow.
John Muir
#64. Sometimes in the afternoon sky the moon would pass white as a cloud, furtive, lusterless, like an actress who does not have to perform yet and who, from the audience, in street clothes, watches the other actors for a moment, making herself inconspicuous, not wanting anyone to pay attention to her.
Marcel Proust
#65. I love beautiful black-and-white movies - anything Bette Davis, especially 'Now', 'Voyager', 'Casablanca', 'Mildred Pierce'; anything by Orson Welles, Truffaut, or Godard; and 'Paper Moon' by Peter Bogdanovich.
Suzan-Lori Parks
#66. I would not be standing here today if my skin were white or my religion were Presbyterian. I am here today only because my skin is yellow and my religion is Unification Church. The ugliest things in this beautiful country of America are religious bigotry and racism.
Sun Myung Moon
#67. (1) Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. (2) Wild geese that flew with the moon on their wings. (3) Bright copper kettles. (4) Doorbells and sleighbells and schnitzel with noodles.
Arundhati Roy
#68. Just look at the Chinese characters used for the names of the days of the week. Color-wise, Monday (Moon) would be yellow. Tuesday (Fire) is red. Wednesday (Water) is blue. Thursday (Wood) is green. Friday (Gold) would be gold, Saturday (Earth) would be light brown. sunday (Sun) would be white.
Nagaru Tanigawa
#69. She would search for him.
In the land that lay east of the sun and west of the moon.
But there was no way there.
Edith Pattou
#70. The moon rose in silver splendor into an October sky strewn with pale clouds and brilliant stars. The clouds churned, a white-foam sea, and the moon was a vast, graceful clipper ship, its sails full of spectral light as it ran before the strength of the cold autumn winds.
Jim Butcher
#71. As we drew nearer I saw a cathedral like a crown on the head of a city. In its white walls every window glinted in the sun. Lincoln! Of such places is England made. -No Moon Tonight
Don Charlwood
#72. But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!
Bayard Taylor
#73. Everything was bathed in the white, unreal light of the moon, the yard like the wet bottom of a sea from which the water has just been suddenly removed.
Haruki Murakami
#74. But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were
Bram Stoker
#75. The moon's a dead rock, but I still like the word,
so black in its white space.
[ ... ]
what can we say to the
moon except You again?
You again.
Franz Wright
#76. When Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon, he and all the space scientists were puzzled by an unidentifiable white object. I knew immediately what it was. That was a home run ball hit off me in 1933 by Jimmie Foxx.
Lefty Gomez
#77. We have developed communications systems to permit man on earth to talk with man on the moon. Yet mother often cannot talk with daughter, father to son, black to white, labour with management or democracy with communism
Hadley Read
#78. I have fourteen black wives an' one white, de chiefest one. I would sure enough shoo her away dis minute if you tek her place in my bed tonight, Mama Sam Moon.
Was sex all these people ever thought about? I guess life was short back then, and nobody had much time to waste on anything else.
J.R. Rain
#79. Four are the tributaries of the great river. Four are the harvests from floodseason to dust. Four are the great treasures: timbalin, myrrh, lapis, and jungissa. Four bands of color mark the face of the Dreaming Moon. Red for blood. White for seed. Yellow for ichor. Black for bile.
N.K. Jemisin
#80. What matters it if the earth be red! the moon remains white; these are the indifferences of the sky.
Victor Hugo
#82. Your window square a yellow kite, and the Moon a white balloon
John Geddes
#83. So now, when the people of Earth looked up into the night sky at the place where they ought to have seen the moon, they saw instead this slowly tumbling constellation of white boulders.
Neal Stephenson
#84. Are we not acceptable, moon? Are we not lovely sitting together here, I in my satin; he in black and white?
Virginia Woolf
#85. The moon, white and voluptuous like a proud, fat bride on her wedding night, had just cleared the horizon. From
Zeece Lugo
