Sun Warmed Quotes & Sayings

Like an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was. No wonder I was so eager to see him. — Stephenie Meyer

An early fly landed on Mara's eyelid.
She shooed it off with a dozy paw as she awakened to peachgold dawn stealing softly over the sleeping dunes.The land lay in a pool of serinity;the sand,now still and cool,awaited sun-warmed day.Somewhere a lark began trilling as it fluttered its morning ascent into the airy heights. — Brian Jacques

I'm not the type to cut back on hot showers, but there's no harm in hot water when it's warmed by the sun. — Julia Louis-Dreyfus

Sella smiled sadly as she laid the scarf on her knees, her fingers tracing over the delicate gold-thread pattern (...) The moon, the sing of calm reflection, from where reason and balance are derived (...) The sun, source of passion, love, anger (...) We exist here, between the two. Grown from the earth, warmed by the sun, cooled by the moonlight night. Your brother's heart had been pulled too far into the sun, fired with anger and regret. Now he has cooled and he looks to the moon for guidance. — Anthony Ryan

It is in the face of all this visual chaos, so opposed to order and simplicity, that I suddenly, perhaps a little guiltily, recall my vow to simplify my life. When I made that promise I had in mind the image of the ancient Greek subsisting on a fragment of pungent cheese, coarse bread, a handful of sun-warmed olives, a little watered wine; a man who discussed the Good, the True, the Beautiful with grave delight, and piped clear music in a sylvan glade. But I feel the absence of hills clothed in myrtle and thyme; of the Great Mother, Homer's wine-dark sea. Good resolutions, it seems, require good scenery. — Guy Vanderhaeghe

If you, Like me, Were made of fur, And sun warmed you, Like me, You'd purr. — Karla Kuskin

But I can tell you what Libby's eyes look like.

They are like lying in the grass under the sky on a summer day. You're blinded by the sun, but you can feel the ground beneath you, so as much as you think you could go flying off, you know you won't. You're warmed from the inside and from the outside, and you can still feel that warmth on your skin when you walk away. — Jennifer Niven

And as each and all of them were warmed without by the sun, so each had a private little sun for her soul to bask in; some dream, some affection, some hobby, at least some remote and distant hope which, though perhaps starving to nothing, still lived on, as hopes will. — Thomas Hardy

I need to take a sacred pause, as if I were a sun warmed rock in the center of a rushing river. — Dawna Markova

I was warmed by the sun, rocked by the winds and sheltered by the trees as other Indian babes. I was living peaceably when people began to speak bad of me. Now I can eat well, sleep well and be glad. I can go everywhere with a good feeling. — Geronimo

The young woman's smiling lips met his caresses halfway, and her eyes shone in their depths like pools warmed by the sun. — Marcel Proust

She didn't want to recall how Nehemia had been used - had used herself - against her, to force her to act. Wanted to pretend she wasn't starting to forget what Nehemia had looked like.
"Shift again," Rowan ordered, jerking his chin at her. "This time, try to - "
She was forgetting what Nehemia looked like. The shade of her eyes, the curve of her lips, the smell of her. Her laugh. The roaring in Celaena's head went quiet, silenced by that familiar nothingness.
Do not let that light go out
But Celaena didn't know how to stop it. The one person she could have told, who might have understood . . . She was buried in an unadorned grave, so far from the sun-warmed soil that she had loved. — Sarah J. Maas

To her complete surprise, Robbie wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek against her apron. He smelled of sunshine, river water, and sun-warmed blackberries. Ada's eyes filled. "I'm sorry about your ma and pa. And I'm sorry I made you sad." It was easy to see why Wyatt set such store by this boy. He was a treasure. She held him by the shoulders and smiled into his bright blue eyes. "You are a wonderful boy, Robbie Whiting, and I can never be sad when you're around." He smiled, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. — Dorothy Love

O no. You should lift Marian! Such a lump. You are like an undulating billow warmed by the sun. And all this fluff of muslin about you is the froth. — Thomas Hardy

Plants like beer! Don't just dump beer left in bottles after a party. Once it becomes flat - after a day or two - add the beer to your SFG bucket of sun-warmed water. The nutrients and salts in the beer will give your plants an added boost. Of course, if the dog seems a little dopey for no apparent reason, you'll know you need to put a cover on that bucket! — Mel Bartholomew

Those afternoons in the library, breathing the stale sun-warmed dust of a thousand stories (accented by the collective mildew of a hundred years of rising damp), had been enchanted. Two decades ago now, and yet here, on the No. 168 bus towards Hampstead Heath, Peter was beset with an almost bodily sense of being back there. His lips twitched with the memory of being nine years old and lanky as a foal. His mood lifted as he remembered how large, how filled with possibilities, and yet, at once, how safe and navigable the world had seemed when he was shut within those four walls . — Kate Morton

It was warm and like the spring and I walked down the alleyway of trees, warmed from the sun on the wall, and found we still lived in the same house and that it all looked the same as when I had left it. — Ernest Hemingway,

Dried mud flats, sun-warmed, have a delicious touch, cushioned and smooth; so has long grass at morning, hot in the sun, but still cool and wet when the foot sinks into it, like food melting to a new flavour in the mouth. And a flower caught by the stalk between the toes is a small enchantment. — Nan Shepherd

I let no chance go by untaken. I never hesitated to follow where my curiosity beckoned. I willingly went where there was danger in beauty and beauty in danger. I had experiences in plenty. Many were enjoyable, some were instructive, a few I would rather have missed. But I had them, and I have them still in memory. If, as soon as tomorrow, I go to my grave, it will be no black and silent hole. I can paint the darkness with vivid colors, and fill it with music both martial and languorous, with the flicker of swords and the flutter of kisses, with flavors and excitements and sensations, with the fragrance of a field of clover that has been warmed in the sun and then washed by a gentle rain, the sweetest-scented thing God ever put on this earth. Yes, I can enliven eternity. Others may have to endure it; I can enjoy it. — Gary Jennings

Toward seven o'clock every morning, I leave my study and step Out on the bright terrace; the sun already burns resplendent Between the shadows of the fig tree, makes the low wall of coarse Granite warm to the touch. Here my tools lie ready and waiting, Each one an intimate, an ally: the round basket for weeds: The zappetta, the small hoe with a short haft ... There's a rake here as well, at at times a mattock and spade, Or two watering cans filled with water warmed by the sun. With my basket and small hoe in hand, facing the sun, I Go out for my morning walk. — Hermann Hesse

But it is not only at these outward forms that we must look to find the evidence of a nation's hurt. We must look as well at the heart of guilt that beats in each of us, for there the cause lies. We must look, and with our own eyes see, the central core of defeat and shame and failure which we have wrought in the lives of even the least of these, our brothers. And why must we look? Because we must probe to the bottom of our collective wound. As men, as Americans, we can no longer cringe away and lie. Are we not all warmed by the same sun, frozen by the same cold, shone on by the same lights of time and terror here in America? Yes, and if we do not look and see it, we shall all be damned together. — Thomas Wolfe

There is nothing better than picking up sun-warmed tomatoes and smelling them, feeling them and scrutinizing their shiny skins for imperfections, dreaming of ways to serve them. — Jose Andres

She was a bright disc in him that left him sun-spun. She was circular, light-turned, equinox-sprung. She was season and movement, but he had never seen her cold. In winter, her fire sank from the surface to below the surface, and warmed her great halls like the legend of the king who kept the sun in his hearth. — Jeanette Winterson

This was it. Together. Forever. As we left it all behind, the sun warmed my back, lighting the way before us. I knew of no better omen. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I watched her, waiting.
She smiled. Her lips curved up and the edges, and her chocolate eyes warmed.
I'd just admitted to stalking her, and she was smiling. — Stephenie Meyer

He watched her emerald eyes darken with need until they were the color of the Highland hills warmed by the summer sun. — Shelly Thacker

She was the mysterious moon that cloaked and shadowed and watched over the sleeping land, and the glorious sun that burned through darkness and warmed cold hearts. — Laken Cane

The culture of a given time and place is a product of inherited tradition, of the recovery of lost or obscured forms of thought, of innovation. Such seeds, fertilized by prosperity, tended by leisure, and warmed by the sun of peace, may produce an abundant bloom. — Morris Bishop

I say, "I love you."

She says, "I love you too." And then she laughs. "It's kind of crazy. I mean you."

"I know. What the hell?"

She covers her mouth with one hand, but her eyes are shining. I'm thinking about a field of grass on a summer day. I'm thinking about the sun and being warmed from the inside and warmed from the outside.

I take her hand under the gray-blue sky and I'm home. — Jennifer Niven

June would always be Charlotte's favorite month on Quinnipeague. She loved the frothy roil of the sea as it recovered from a day of rain, and in those early mornings, before the fog lifted and sun warmed the island, there was nothing, nothing better than a wood fire, wool socks, and hot chocolate made from scratch. — Barbara Delinsky

I wished for nothing beyond her smile, and to walk with her thus, hand in hand, along a sun warmed, flower bordered path. — Andre Gide

The sky slides into blue, the bluffs into bloom; the rapid Mississippi expands; runs sparkling and gurgling, all over in eddies; one magnified wake of a seventy-four. The sun comes out, a golden huzzar, from his tent, flashing his helm on the world. All things, warmed in the landscape, leap. Speeds the daedal boat as a dream. — Herman Melville

I became intensely aware of the being-ness of trees. The feel of rough sun-warmed bark of an ancient forest giant, or the cool, smooth skin of a young and eager sapling, gave me a strange, intuitive sense of the sap as it was sucked up by unseen roots and drawn up to the very tips of the branches, high overhead. — Jane Goodall

Genius is a native to the soil where it grows - is fed by the air, and warmed by the sun; and is not a hothouse plant or an exotic — William Hazlitt

He stepped closer, and her body warmed as if he were the sun. — Cate Rowan

She was alone with beauty. She was passionately realizing the moment, its fleeting exquisiteness, its still, fragile beauty. So exquisite it was, so frail and so transitory, that she could have wept, even as she clasped it close. To savor the loveliness of moments, to bathe in them as in a wine-gold, sun-warmed sea, and then to pass on to the next - that was life. — Rose Macaulay

But a mother is like a broomstick or like the sun in the heavens, it does not matter which as far as one's knowledge of her is concerned: the broomstick is there and the sun is there; and whether the child is beaten by it or warmed and enlightened by it, it accepts it as a fact in nature, and does not conceive it as having had youth, passions, and weaknesses, or as still growing, yearning, suffering, and learning. — George Bernard Shaw

Bears are made of the same dust as we, and they breathe the same winds and drink of the same waters. A bear's days are warmed by the same sun, his dwellings are overdomed by the same blue sky, and his life turns and ebbs with heart pulsing like ours. He was poured from the same first fountain. And whether he at last goes to our stingy Heaven or not, he has terrestrial immortality. His life, not long, not short, knows no beginning , no ending. To him life unstinted, unplanned, is above the accidents of time, and his years, markless and boundless, equal eternity. — John Muir

She couldn't see the homemade colored sprinkles, the tender yellow cake, or the pale pink frosting made with strawberry syrup enhanced with a little rosewater. Although our local strawberries weren't in season yet, I had conjured the aroma and taste of juicy berries warmed by the sun. I hoped this flavor would help the two old people return once more to their youth and the carefree feeling of a summer day. — Judith Fertig

Like an inspired and prolific poet, who never refuses to spread beauty to the humblest places, which until now did not seem to share the domain of art, the sun still warmed the bountiful energy of the dung heap, of the unevenly paved yard, and of the pear tree worn down like an old serving maid. — Marcel Proust

What he did instead was clean his shelter. He had been sleeping on the foam pad that had come with the survival pack and he straightened everything up and hung his bag out in the sun to air-dry and then used the hatchet to cut the ends of new evergreen boughs and laid them like a carpet in the shelter. As soon as he brought the boughs inside and the heat from the fire warmed them they gave off the most wonderful smell, filled the whole shelter with the odor of spring, and he brought the bag back inside and spread the pad and bag and felt as if he were in a new home. The berries boiled first and he added snow water to them and kept them boiling until he had a kind of mush in the pan. By that time the meat had cooked and he set it off to the side and tasted the berry — Gary Paulsen

Her voice made me drunk, deep and sun-warmed, a hint of a foreign accent, Swedish singsong a generation removed. — Janet Fitch

When spring is here the sketcher begins to look over his equipment and relishes in anticipation the soothing hours he will spend in the open, warmed by the sun, fanned by the breeze, charmed by the manifold delights of nature. — Walter J. Phillips

For a moment, I lived in the center of the sun, warmed and cleansed, and the smell and sight of sickness fell away; the bitterness lifted from my heart. I — Diana Gabaldon

She smelled like water that had been warmed by the sun, and she also had the sharp, enticing aroma of birch leaves. — Tadeusz Konwicki

The sun that warmed our stooping backs and withered the weed
uprooted-
We shall not feel it again.
We shall die in darkness, and be buried in the rain. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

New Haven smelled of neglect. Baltimore smelled of brine, and Brooklyn of sun-warmed garbage. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

It is for you this song
You, the stranger who, without fuss,
Though downtrodden yourself still smiled at me,
When the policemen took me off.

You who didn't join the applause when
The upper crust women and men
All the people with good intentions
Laughed to see me being led away.

It was merely a touch of honey
But it warmed my body through
And in my soul it burns on still
As the bright sun would do...

You, the stranger, when you will die
When the mortician bears you off
May he take you across the sky,
To the Father Eternal. — Georges Brassens

Philadelphia had the musty scent of history. New Haven smelled of neglect. Baltimore smelled of brine, and Brooklyn of sun-warmed garbage. But Princeton had no smell. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

One of the many horrible things about dying the way we died was the way it robbed us of the outdoor world and trapped us in the indoor world. For every one of us who was able to die peacefully on a deck chair, blanket pulled high, as the wind stirred his hair and the sun warmed his face, there were hundreds of us whose last glimpse of the world was white walls and metal machinery, the tease of a window, the inadequate flowers in a vase, elected representatives from the wilds we had lost. Our last breaths were of climate-controlled air. We died under ceilings. Either the wallpaper goes, or I do. It makes us more grateful now for rivers, more grateful for sky. — David Levithan

When they touched it was like touching her own body. From childhood they had been the same height; their arms and legs and hands were still perfectly congruent. Only the centers of them were different, aching, fascinated, every part of them heated to the same temperature as the sun warmed pond. — Jennifer Haigh

water lapped softly against the side of the marina walkway, the sound of muffled conversations and kids laughing occasionally floated by, the heat of the sun warmed skin while the breeze off the water kept the temperature pleasant, and a time-traveling vampire pirate was dragging a sensual, yet innocent, — Juliet Spenser

He dropped the pretense, and dropped his head, so his brow came to rest against the sun-warmed top of hers. His arms went around her and drew her in, and Karou and Akiva were like two matches struck against each other to flare starlight. With a sigh, she softened, and it was pure homecoming to melt against him and rest. — Laini Taylor

Cairn Stone
This is the rock he lifted
to lay upon a cairn
in a high place.
This rock, warmed by the near sun,
felt right, somehow, in his hand.
He decided to carry it down
to his mother, who lay in bed,
recovering.
It is so easy to please
a mother. Just to think of her
for a moment, from a high place,
and to carry that thought to her
in the form of a stone. — Claudia Putnam

Jacob was simply a perpetually happy person, and he carried this happiness with him like an aura, sharing it with whoever was near him. Lika an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was. — Stephenie Meyer

Occasionally we glimpse the South Rim, four or five thousand feet above. From the rims the canyon seems oceanic; at the surface of the river the feeling is intimate. To someone up there with binoculars we seem utterly remote down here. It is this know dimension if distance and time and the perplexing question posed by the canyon itself- What is consequential? (in one's life, in the life of human beings, in the life of a planet)- that reverberate constantly, and make the human inclination to judge (another person, another kind of thought) seem so eerie ... Two kinds of time pass here: sitting at the edge of a sun-warmed pool watching blue dragonflies and black tadpoles. And the rapids: down the glassy-smooth tongue into a yawing trench, climb a ten-foot wall of standing water and fall into boiling, ferocious hydraulics ... — Barry Lopez