The Master observes the world, but trusts his inner vision. He allows things to come and go. His heart is as open as the sky.
Even after all this time, the sun never says to the earth, 'You owe me.' Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky.
The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web.
The idea that God is an oversized white male with a flowing beard who sits in the sky and tallies the fall of every sparrow is ludicrous. But if by God one means the set of physical laws that govern the universe, then clearly there is such a God. This God is emotionally unsatisfying... it does not make much sense to pray to the law of gravity.
Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
I believe television is going to be the test of the modern world, and that in this new opportunity to see beyond the range of our vision we shall discover either a new and unbearable disturbance of the general peace or a saving radiance in the sky. We shall stand or fall by television - of that I am quite sure.
E. B. White
No rack can torture me, My soul ’s at liberty. Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder oneYou cannot prick with saw, Nor rend with scymitar. Two bodies therefore be; Bind one, and one will flee.The eagle of his nest No easier divest And gain the sky, Than mayest thou,Except thyself may be Thine enemy; Captivity is consciousness, So’s liberty.
When all the dark clouds roll away And the sun begins to shine I see my freedom from across the way And it comes right in on time Well it shines so bright and it gives so much light And it comes from the sky above Makes me feel so free makes me feel like me And lights my life with love.
The sky is now indelible ink,The branches reft asunder;But you and I we do not shrink;We love the lovely thunder.
I really enjoy forgetting. When I first come to a place, I notice all the little details. I notice the way the sky looks. The color of white paper. The way people walk. Doorknobs. Everything. Then I get used to the place and I don't notice those things anymore. So only by forgetting can I see the place again as it really is.
You can't work in a steel mill and think small. Giant converters hundreds of feet high. Every night, the sky looked enormous. It was a torrent of flames - of fire. The place that Pittsburgh used to be had such scale.
Whenever I see the Hong Kong flag is flying in the sky, not because of anybody else, because of my efforts, I think it's the most proud time of my life.
Yu Chui Yee