Quotations About / On: SUN
There Was a Country in which the Half of a Yellow Sun shone on The Famished Road...
'I wish to see the sun and how it fades in the place that I was raised in...'
(When a person is away from their motherland, especially when the land is in a war, a new type of pain is felt and they start missing the smallest things such as a sunset or a sunrise.)
I walk between the light and the Dark. I shall walk this earth to the suns flare shines no more for I AM WARLOCK
(Adventures of Warlockbob 777)
I reached for the sun this semester and landed upon a cloud touched by it as I got through my first semester of college.
The sun goes away at night and leaves you your sorrows, and it does not rise any quicker when you are joyful.
(Simone Schwarz-Bart (b. 1938), Gaudeloupean author. The Bridge of Beyond, p. 114, Éditions du Seuil (1972).)
With five to ten hundred pure-minded young women threading the streets of the village every evening unattended, vice must slink away, like frost before the rising sun ...
(Anna Julia Cooper (1859-1964), U.S. educator and feminist. A Voice from the South, part 1 (1892).
On why the crime rate was low in Oberlin, Ohio, where coeducational Oberlin College was located.)
... a country encapsulates our childhood and those lanes, byres, fields, flowers, insects, suns, moons and stars are forever reoccurring.
(Edna O'Brien (b. c. 1932), Irish author; relocated to England. Mother Ireland, ch. 7 (1976).)
The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going round the sun.
(George Orwell (1903-1950), British author. "Thoughts on the Common Toad," Shooting an Elephant (1950).)
It is an hypothesis that the sun will rise tomorrow: and this means that we do not know whether it will rise.
(Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951), Austrian-British philosopher. Trans. by D.F. Pears and B.F. McGuinness, Routledge and Kegan Paul (1961). Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, 6.36311.)
Tragedy is always a mistake; and the loneliness of the deepest thinker, the widest lover, ceases to be pathetic to us so soon as the sun is high enough above the mountains.
(Margaret Fuller (1810-1850), U.S. author, literary critic, journalist. quoted in Margaret Fuller Ossoli, p. 289, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Houghton, Mifflin and Co., Boston (1898).)