I don't believe there's any cloud that hangs over me. I think there's nothing but sunshine hanging over me.
I have sat by night beside a cold lake And touched things smoother than moonlight on still water, But the moon on this cloud sea is not human, And here is no shore, no intimacy, Only the start of space, the road to suns.
I would never describe a cloud as 'fluffy'—in Chinese or in English.
Could there be a more hilarious sad sack than Duncan Leland, whose trials and tribulations, so wittily conveyed, had me laughing (and wincing) from the first page? Hart's Maine landscape is rich with eccentric characters, dried fish, and other surprising and original treasures. While Duncan sinks, the reader will float on a cloud nine of classy entertainment.
Behind every cloud is another cloud.
Friend, my enemy, I call you out. You, you, you there with a bad thorn in your side. You there, my friend, with a winning air. Who pawned the lie on me when he looked brassly at my shyest secret. With my whole heart under your hammer. That though I loved him for his faults as much as for his good. My friend were an enemy upon stilts with his head in a cunning cloud. -Dylan Thomas
The moon is hidden behind a cloud. . . On the leaves is a sound of falling rain. . . No other sounds than these I hear; The hour of midnight must be near. . . So many ghosts, and forms of fright, Have started from their graves to-night, They have driven sleep from mine eyes away: I will go down to the chapel and pray.
I fell off my pink cloud with a thud.
Twenty thousand birds moved away from me as one, like a ground-hugging white cloud, clucking softly.
Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; And after summer evermore succeeds Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
[In 1951] we were also told that the Russians could be parachuting from planes over our town at any time. These were the same Russians that my uncles had fought alongside only a few years earlier. Now they had become monsters who were coming to slit our throats and incinerate us. It seemed peculiar. Living under a cloud of fear like this robs a child of his spirit. It's one thing to be afraid when someone's holding a shotgun on you, but it's another thing to be afraid of something that's just not quite real.
The only way to predict if there's a cloud on your horizon due to glaucoma is to get tested. No matter what the diagnosis, the forecast is for clear vision in the years ahead.
The aura of billions of people coats all experiences like a thick cloud of smog. Just to live on the earth is to live in that smog.
If you were a cloud, and sailed up there, You'd sail on water as blue as air, And you'd see me here in the fields and say: 'Doesn't the sky look green today?
Hey listen, I already have a complete list of silver linings. It's the goddamn cloud that's killin me.
A lot of people think Heaven is sitting around on a cloud playing a harp all day, doing nothing except being holy - and they don't find it very appealing! Thank God that is not what Heaven is like!
Every man, wherever he goes, is encompassed by a cloud of comforting convictions, which move with him like flies on a summer day.
My wisdom has long accumulated like a cloud, it becomes stiller and darker. So does all wisdom which shall one day bear lightnings.
. . . she moved about in a mental cloud of many-coloured idealities, which eclipsed all sinister contingencies by its brightness.
Those of little faith mistake local cloud cover for general darkness. Keeping spiritually intact results in our keeping precious perspective by seeing "things as they really are. "