Lie on the bridge and watch the water flowing past. Or run, or wade through the swamp in your red boots. Or roll yourself up and listen to the rain falling on the roof. It’s very easy to enjoy yourself.

If I were rain, That joins sky and earth that otherwise never touch,Could I join two hearts as well?

Physical Education”Make sense…

Or I would be the rain itself, wreathing over the island, mingling in the quiet of moist places, filling its pores with its saturated breaths. And I would be the wind, whispering through the tangled woods, running airy fingers over the island’s face, tingling in the chill of concealed places, sighing secrets in the dawn....

From where we stand the rain seems random. If we could stand somewhere else, we would see the order in it.

Ariette IIIIl pleure dans mon coeurComme il pleut sur la ville ;Quelle est cette langueurQui pénètre mon coeur ?Ô bruit doux de la pluiePar terre et sur les toits ! Pour un coeur qui s’ennuie,Ô le chant de la pluie !Il pleure sans raisonDans ce coeur qui s’écoeure.Quoi ! nulle trahison ?Ce deuil est sans...

Eyes so young, so full of pain … Two lonely drops of winter rain … And no tear could these eyes sustain … For too much had they seen.

still other winters average their rain months into a long, cold season of relentless sog and little color. At such times, looking out through the spattered glass, I feel, deep in some spongy, unignorable organ, that we will have floods, and damage, and losses; we will have gray till the cows come home, and there...

The rain is falling all around,It falls on field and tree,It rains on the umbrellas here,And on the ships at sea.

I’ve got to stop looking at you, like you light my world. You’re the dark cloud which brings the rain. You’re the hurricane which destroys my peace. You are not the sun. I am my own light.

…I lost my illusions in a black rain of bitterness – now what do you see in my eyes? How can you still love me? How can I be tender? …

When the rain falls you just let it fall and you grin like a madman and you dance with it, because if you can make yourself happy in the rain then you’re doing pretty alright in life.

The philosophy of the rain is very simple: No obstacle is obstacle when you are strongly determined!

Rain slips through your fingers as easily as words blow away in the wind, and yet it has the power to destroy your whole world.

Although it wasn’t raining anymore, the air was still heavy with water, and rain gutters were ringing all over Point Breeze.

I, too, seem to be a connoisseur of rain, but it does not fill me with joy; it allows me to steep myself in a solitude I nurse like a vice I’ve refused to vanquish.

Pour on me the tears of the heavensKiss my cheeks with crystal rain Wash away my blemishes and jittersTeach me how to dance in the rain Listen closely and you may hearA sweet fading melody with each drop of rain Pour on me solace and euphoria Take my hand and dance with me.

Life is just learning to dance in the rain – enjoy every drop and enjoy every pain!

I used to sit in front of my father’s Jag, watching the raindrops run their kamikaze suicide missions from one edge of the windshield to the wiper blade.

I miss it if I’m not in it for any length of time; I don’t feel comfortable. I want trees and I want frequent rain.

We stepped carefully, so softly, over thorny plants. The dust had turned to mud, splattering our shoes, socks, and legs. By the time we reached the boat, our clothes were clinging to our flesh and stained with the bloody remains of mosquitoes.

I wish to stay drenchedforeverin those rain-blue eyesin those…soul-reaching crystalsnot moving a musclenor breathingjustsavoringthis turquoise acheagainst my heart.

It didn’t rain for you, maybe, but it always rains for me. The sky shatters and rains shards of glass.

Although it was only six o’clock, the night was already dark. The fog, made thicker by its proximity to the Seine, blurred every detail with its ragged veils, punctured at various distances by the reddish glow of lanterns and bars of light escaping from illuminated windows. The road was soaked with rain and glittered under...

I am not anti rain,I am anti gravity.

I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry.Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it’s just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and...

There is very hard bonding between Tears and Rain, often both falls together in Happiness and in Pain” -Samar Sudha

At that instant a dazzling claw of lightning streaked down the length of the sky. The hedge and the distant trees seemed to leap forward in the brilliance of the flash. Immediately upon it came the thunder: a high, tearing noise, as though some huge thing were being ripped to pieces close above, which deepened...

Spanish rain,A maiden’s dress,Apothecary pillsAnd ancient thrills;Melancholy killsA girl’s caress.(—Roman Payne; Valencia, Spain, November 2nd 2012)

Barish ho gayi, meri Gari dhul gayi

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?

And sometimes you realize the value of the rain by knowing how unreliable and vanishing the rainbow is.

Well, I learned to cook. At my age,” she told him. “What’s next? Art therapy? Anyway, I’ve had quite a time of it this summer, and who knows what eases down on any road. Come, Rain. A quick goodbye, and off you go.” “Goodbye,” said Rain to the Lion, and then to the woman. “Not...

mengumpat dan memuja hujan.. Apapun caramu!!

I keep trying to explain to people that the archetype of intelligence is not Dustin Hoffman in ‘The Rain Man;’ it is a human being, period. It is squishy things that explode in a vacuum, leaving footprints on their moon.

My name is Mr. Raingold. But please, call me Money Showers.

People think that by living on some mountainside in a tent and being frozen to death by freezing rain, they’re somehow discovering reality, but of course that’s just another fiction dreamed up by a TV producer.

He turned to look just in time to see the rain start falling out as if the storm had finally decided to weep with shame for what it had done to them.

APPROACHRain is falling. Winter approaches. I drive towards it. In the slow rain. In the semi-darkness. Cello music is playing in the car. The deep sad sound of the cello. It almost swamps me. Routine endeavours to swamp me. The everyday paying of bills.But I paint men walking in a city of icebergs and crystal....

I like the rain; it brings your fragrance everywhere and the nature smells your aroma.

The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day’s last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.

I always carry a spoon in my pocket. You know, just in case it rains.

You can’t rain on my parade. It’s an umbrella parade.

Love is like a rain cloud under the dome of an umbrella. But I’m cool with that, because that’s what I call a portable shower.

Night was fading over the fields as if the rain had washed the darkness out of the hem of its garment.

I stood under the umbrella for hours before I folded it up and started walking. Umbrellas can block the sun, shield the rain, and if you flip an open one over, it can also be used as a large coffee cup.

When rain comes down, the chance of rainbows goes up. Likewise, when my coffee goes down, I wake up. Hopefully I wake up in your bed.

You can’t be living always in the promise of the clouds; it must rain now. Leave the talking and live by walking… It will yield an indelible impact!

If you listen to the rain long enough, you’ll eventually soak up the wisdom.

Though ‘Fire and Rain’ is very personal, for other people it resonates as a sort of commonly held experience… And that’s what happens with me. I write things for personal reasons, and then in some cases it… can be a shared experience.