Rain Quotes

“When you go,
if you go,
And I should want to die,
there's nothing I'd be saved by
more than the time
you fell asleep in my arms
in a trust so gentle
I let the darkening room
drink up the evening, till
rest, or the new rain
lightly roused you awake.
I asked if you heard the rain in your dream
and half dreaming still you only said, I love you.”
― Edwin Morgan, New Selected Poems

“There are people in the world, who are just wrong, and then there are the masses of population that are right, or at the very least they lie in the veil of between. I on the other hand, do not belong to any group. I don’t exist. It’s not that I don’t have substance; I have a body like everyone else. I can feel the fire when it burns against my skin, the rain when it caresses my face and the breeze as it fingers my hair. I have all the senses that other people do. I am just empty, inside.”
― J.D. Stroube, Caged in Darkness

“The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature for the tangled passions of humans.”
― Sherwood Smith

“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.”
― Shaun Hick

“Never dance in a puddle when there's a hole in your shoe (it's always best to take your shoes off first).”
― John D. Rhodes

“Innocent droplets of rain
Make almost all events
Quite natural.

(from "A Rainy Day")”
― Visar Zhiti, The Condemned Apple: Selected Poetry

“Rain drops are not the ones who bring the clouds.”
― Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom

“en la lluvia, cuando le recuerdo.”
― sitta karina

“The rain is falling all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.”
― Robert Louis Stevenson, A Child's Garden of Verses

“It's all nonsense. It's only nonsense. I'm not afraid of the rain. I am not afraid of the rain. Oh, oh, God, I wish I wasn't.”
― Ernest Hemingway

“It rains
And rains
And rains.
But there is a sky above the rain,
Nothing can rot the sky.
Earth has turned to mud. What of it?
The heart of the planet is made of fire, of ardent sun.
(from "A Rainy Day")”
― Visar Zhiti, The Condemned Apple: Selected Poetry

“There will always be those
who say you are too young and delicate
to make anything happen for yourself.
They don't see the part of you that smolders.
Don't let their doubting drown out
the sound of your own heartbeat.

You are the first drop of rain in a hurricane.

Your bravery builds beyond you.
You are needed by all the little girls
still living in secret, writing oceans
made of monsters, and
throwing like lightning.
You don't need to grow up
to find greatness.

You are so much stronger than the world
has ever believed you could be.
The world is waiting for you
to set it on fire. Trust in yourself

and burn.”
― Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers

“Shortly afterwards it started raining, very innocently at first, but the sky was packed tight with cloud and gradually the drops grew bigger and heavier, until it was autumn’s dismal rain that was falling—rain that seemed to fill the entire world with its leaden beat, rain suggestive in its dreariness of everlasting waterfalls between the planets, rain that thatched the heavens with drabness and brooded oppressively over the whole countryside, like a disease, strong in the power of its flat, unvarying monotony, its smothering heaviness, its cold, unrelenting cruelty. Smoothly, smoothly it fell, over the whole shire, over the fallen marsh grass, over the troubled lake, the iron-grey gravel flats, the sombre mountain above the croft, smudging out every prospect. And the heavy, hopeless, interminable beat wormed its way into every crevice in the house, lay like a pad of cotton wool over the ears, and embraced everything, both near and far, in its compass, like an unromantic story from life itself that has no rhythm and no crescendo, no climax, but which is nevertheless overwhelming in its scope, terrifying in its significance. And at the bottom of this unfathomed ocean of teeming rain sat the little house and its one neurotic woman.”
― Halldór Laxness, Independent People

“Whoa, whoa! Hold up, there, kid. She lives in Forks, remember? So she gets rained on.”
― Stephenie Meyer

“Crying in the rain. No one sees your tears and your pain gets washed away.”
― Elizabeth Bourgeret

“It was true that the city could still throw shadows filled with mystifying figures from its past, whose grip on the present could be felt on certain strange days, when the streets were dark with rain and harmful ideas.”
― Christopher Fowler, Ten Second Staircase

“I reach for her hand and wind my fingers through hers, turning them so the rain patters down onto her palm. I trace a circle there with my thumb, smoothing the water in her skin. I want to show her there's nothing to be afraid of.”
― Amie Kaufman, These Broken Stars

“To them, as to Magnus, time was like rain, glittering as it fell, changing the world, but something that could also be taken for granted.”
― Cassandra Clare, The Bane Chronicles

“... back then the sky seemed so vast.

And now the sky above me... is low, and narrow, and heavy.”
― Inio Asano, Solanin

“Heaven opened and the water hammered down, reviving the reluctant old well, greenmossing the pigless pigsty, carpet bombing still, tea-colored puddles the way memory bombs still, tea-colored minds.”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

“Stew's so comforting on a rainy day.”
― Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle

“I hate it when storm clouds roll in, heralded by dazzling claps of thunder and lightning that boast an ocean of tears. This majestic performance of bad temper manages to overshadow my pathetic attempts at pouting. No one broods like Mother Nature, hence she steals all the attention I was sulking after.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, and Grumblings for Every Day of the Year

“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.”
― Murray Morgan

“She sheltered her colors in the dark, where others were blind to see; I caught a glimpse of her lastly when she gave me a chance, before disappearing into the day. There was beauty locked in her that unfolded like an umbrella's claw, her true self that desired compassion, trust, protection and the potential to soar. But I missed to late, that what I wasn't looking for, when she left her reasons in the rain.”
― Anthony Liccione

“When we love each other we are immortal and indestructible like the heartbeat and the rain and the wind.”
― Erich Maria Remarque, Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country

“For all the way he loved her. Every song had her memory, every rain had her smell, and every girl had her face.”
― Akshay Vasu

“His sadness was almost palpable, like moisture in the air before it rains. Although this was Manchester, it was probably about to rain anyway.”
― Mhairi McFarlane, You Had Me At Hello

“There are moments when I think it will never end, that it will last indefinitely. It's like the rain. Here the rain, like everything else, suggests permanence and eternity. I say to myself: it's raining today and it's going to rain tomorrow and the next day, the next week and the next century.”
― Elie Wiesel, Dawn

“I lay awake listening to the rain, and at first it was as pleasant to my ear and my mind as it had long been desired; but before I fell asleep it had become a majestic and finally a terrible thing, instead of a sweet sound and symbol. It was accusing and trying me and passing judgment. Long I lay still under the sentence, listening to the rain, and then at last listening to words which seemed to be spoken by a ghostly double beside me. He was muttering: The all-night rain puts out summer like a torch. In the heavy, black rain falling straight from invisible, dark sky to invisible, dark earth the heat of summer is annihilated, the splendour is dead, the summer is gone. The midnight rain buries it away where it has buried all sound but its own. I am alone in the dark still night, and my ear listens to the rain piping in the gutters and roaring softly in the trees of the world. Even so will the rain fall darkly upon the grass over the grave when my ears can hear it no more…

The summer is gone, and never can it return. There will never be any summer any more, and I am weary of everything… I am alone.

The truth is that the rain falls for ever and I am melting into it. Black and monotonously sounding is the midnight and solitude of the rain. In a little while or in an age – for it is all one – I shall know the full truth of the words I used to love, I knew not why, in my days of nature, in the days before the rain: ‘Blessed are the dead that the rain rains on.”
― Edward Thomas

“The rain begins with a single drop”
― Manal al-Sharif, Daring to Drive: A Saudi Woman's Awakening