stars

Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward.

If an object - a star, for instance, like our own sun - is eight hundred light years away from the Earth, it would take light leaving that object eight hundred years until it reached our eyes. So when you look at that object, you are seeing it as it appeared eight hundred light years ago, not as it looks today. It might not even exist anymore. Every time you look up at the stars, you are looking into the past.

. . .though the names of lovers are forgotten in time, their nameswritten across the sky as ogham threads are tracedbetween the stars

Every time I hold your hand in the night and look at that star, I remember the fact that it is millions of light years away from us, we are looking at its past and it doesn't exist anymore and I always end up feeling, what if we both are made up of the dust of the same star we are staring at.

The stars we are given. The constellations we make. That is to say, stars exist in the cosmos, but constellations are the imaginary lines we draw between them, the readings we give the sky, the stories we tell.

The dancing Sun the dancing moon the dancing stars and the dancing galaxies are the direct expression of our divine Self.

But I will confess __hat I began as an astronomer__ liking__or bright flashes, vast distances, unreachable things,__ hand stretched always toward the furthest limit___nd that my longing for you has not taken me__ery far from that original desire__o inscribe a comet__ orbit around the walls__f our city, to gently stroke the surface of the stars.

when you shoot for the stars, you can't ever look back.

When you reach for the stars, you are reaching for the farthest thing out there. When you reach deep into yourself, it is the same thing, but in the opposite direction. If you reach in both directions, you will have spanned the universe.

The stars are numerous as the sand on the seashore.

I used to walk out, at night, to the breakwater which divides the end of the harbor form the broad moor of the salt marsh. There was nothing to block the wind that had picked up speed and vigor from its Atlantic crossing. I__ study the stars in their brilliant blazing, the diaphanous swath of the milk Way, the distant glow of Boston backlighting the clouds on the horizon as if they__ been drawn there in smudgy charcoal. I felt, perhaps for the first time, particularly American, embedded in American history, here at the nation__ slender tip. Here our westering impulse, having flooded the continent and turned back, finds itself face to face with the originating Atlantic, November__ chill, salt expanses, what Hart Crane called the __nfettered leewardings,_ here at the end of the world.

She didn't want to go far, just out of the trees so she could see the stars. They always eased her loneliness. She thought of them as beautiful creatures, burning and cold; each solitary, and bleak, and silent like her.

The sun loved me again when it saw that the stars would not abandon me.

Why do I go outside at one a.m.and search the stars as though I'd numbered them?

My thoughts are stars i cannot fathom into constellations

Even the brightest stars burn out eventually.

she looked up at the stars and gave Tibby thanks. She didn't have to throw her thoughts far to know they reached her.

You can find your way across this country using burger joints the way a navigator uses stars.