c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
Even the simplest things had a glorious pointlessness to them. When buttons came in, about 1650, people couldn't get enough of them and arrayed them in decorative profusion on the backs and collars and sleeves of coats, where they didn't actually do anything. One relic of this is the short row of pointless buttons that are still placed on the underside of jacket sleeves near the cuff. These have been purely decorative and have never had a purpose, yet 350 years later on we continue to attach them as if they are the most earnest necessity.
— Bill Bryson
That civet-jasmine blend you're wearing tonight absolutely clashes with the third-level formal style of your dress, you know.
— Lois McMaster Bujold, Cetaganda
She let her mind drift, thinking about new lingerie designs, wishing she'd brought along her sketchpad. Inspiration could strike at the most inconvenient times--in the shower, in the car, on this road--but she was grateful it was with her again, an old companion with whom she was getting reacquainted, pleased to find they could take up where they'd left off, as if there'd been no estrangement at all.
— Heather Barbieri, The Lace Makers of Glenmara
A fashion that does not reach the streets is not a fashion
— Coco Chanel
Costume jewelry is not made to give women an aura of wealth,but to make them beautifu
— Coco Chanel
There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won't remember and that she can't even let herself think about because that's when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it's always raining a slow and endless drizzle.You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sign, and a voice that might be hers will say something that you cannot interpret before the connection crackles and is broken.Several years later, from a taxi, you will see someone in a doorway who looks like her, but she will be gone by the time you persuade the driver to stop. You will never see her again. Whenever it rains you will think of her. 
— Neil Gaiman
I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying.
— Charlie Chaplin
The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.
— Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
Do not be angry with the rain
—  it simply does not know how to fall upwards.
Walls have ears.Doors have eyes.Trees have voices.Beasts tell lies.Beware the rain.Beware the snow.Beware the manYou think you know.-Songs of Sapphique
— Catherine Fisher, Incarceron
Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.
— Roger Miller
October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.
— J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
It didn’t rain for you, maybe, but it always rains for me. The sky shatters and rains shards of glass.
— Tablo, Pieces of You
The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.
— Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat
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.
— James Dashner, The Scorch Trials
Roy: "Looks like it's starting to rain"Riza: "But..It's not raining..."Roy: "Yes it is. This is the rain.
— Hiromu Arakawa, Fullmetal Alchemist, Vol. 4
From where we stand the rain seems random. If we could stand somewhere else, we would see the order in it.
— Tony Hillerman, Coyote Waits
I woke to the sound of rain.
— Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
The English play hockey in any weather. Thunder, lightening, plague of locusts...nothing can stop the hockey. Do not fight the hockey, for the hockey will win.
— Maureen Johnson
Innocent droplets of rainMake almost all events	Quite natural.(from "A Rainy Day")
— Visar Zhiti, The Condemned Apple: Selected Poetry
Whoa, whoa! Hold up, there, kid. She lives in Forks, remember? So she gets rained on.
— Stephenie Meyer
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
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
It was a rainy night. It was the myth of a rainy night.
— Jack Kerouac, On the Road
Rain didn't make things messy. People did that all on their own.
— Barbara Delinsky, The Secret Between Us
Rain drops are not the ones who bring the clouds.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
The rain is falling ever harder and all I can hear is the sound of the water. I'm drenched but I can't move.
— Paulo Coelho, Aleph
The fruition of the year had come and the night should have been fine with a moon in the sky and the crisp sharp promise of frost in the air, but it wasn't that way. It rained and little puddles of water shone under the street lamps on Main Street. In the woods in the darkness beyond the Fair Ground water dripped from the black trees.
— Sherwood Anderson, Winesburg, Ohio
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
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
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
A small and sinister snow seems to be coming down relentlessly at present. The radio says it is eventually going to be sleet and rain, but I don't think so; I think it is just going to go on and on, coming down, until the whole world...etc. It has that look.
— Edward Gorey, Floating Worlds: The Letters of Edward Gorey & Peter F. Neumeyer
Don't wish,"said Rain, "don't start. Wishing only...
— Gregory Maguire, Out of Oz
Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain.
— Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, The Mistress of Spices
It was raining in the small, mountainous country of Llamedos. It was always raining in Llamedos. Rain was the country's main export. It had rain mines.
— Terry Pratchett, Soul Music
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.
The river and the garden have been the foundations of my economy here. Of the two I have liked the river best. It is wonderful to have the duty of being on the river the first and last thing every day. I have loved it even in the rain. Sometimes I have loved it most in the rain.
— Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow
Emerald slopes became so tall they touched the clouds, and showers painted diamond waterfalls that sluiced down cliff sides.
— Victoria Kahler, Capturing the Sunset
The Sun after the rain is much beautiful than the Sun before the rain!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
It was the day of the worms. That first almost-warm, after-the-rainy-night day in April, when you bolt from your house to find yourself in a world of worms. They were as numerous here in the East End as they had been in the West. The sidewalks, the streets. The very places where they didn't belong. Forlorn, marooned on concrete and asphalt, no place to burrow, April's orphans.
— Jerry Spinelli, Maniac Magee
He took me down and out into the afterlife of the brightly lit streets, a haze of rain around each streetlight like a galaxy, the whole street a universe spread out like a banquet.
— Michael Montoure, Slices
Rain clouds come floating in, not to muddy my days ahead, but to make me calm, happy and hopeful.
— rajuda
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.
— Julia Glass, Three Junes
Very gently. Like there are eggshells on your pedals, and you don’t want to break them. That’s how you drive in the rain.
— Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain
Although it wasn't raining anymore, the air was still heavy with water, and rain gutters were ringing all over Point Breeze.
— Michael Chabon, Wonder Boys
No rain but thunder, and the sound of giants.
— Mike Mignola, Hellboy, Vol. 9: The Wild Hunt
The book was not new. Dates were stamped on the front endpaper, in and out dates. A rent book. A lending library of elaborate smut.I rewrapped the book and locked it up behind the seat. A racket like that, out in the open on the boulevard, seemed to mean plenty of protection. I sat there and poisoned myself with cigarette smoke and listened to the rain and thought about it.
— Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep
This is what fun is like," said Rain, almost to herself.
— Gregory Maguire, Out of Oz
The rain thundered down so heavily that Pritam could imagine that space itself was made of water and was pouring through rents in the sky's tired fabric.
— Stephen M. Irwin, The Dead Path
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.
— Mia Kirshner, I Live Here
Which is just another way of blaming, and perhaps the best way, because there is solace and a certain stoical peace in blaming everything on the rain, and then blaming something as uncontrollable as the rain on something as indifferent as the Arm of the Lord.Because nothing can be done about the rain except blaming. And if nothing can be done about it, why get yourself in a sweat about it?
— Ken Kesey, Sometimes a Great Notion
Bloody rain” says Mr ChiversBouncing a basketballOn the one dry patch of courtbloody rain” he nods to our Sports classAnd gives us the afternoon off.Bloody rain all rightAs Annabel and I run to Megalong Creek hutFaster than we ever have in Chivers’s classAnd the exercise we have in mindWe’ve been training for all yearBut I doubt if old ChiversWill give us a medal if he ever finds out.We high jump into the hutAnd strip downClimb under the blanketsAnd cheer the bloody rain As it does a lap or twoAround the mountainWhile Annabel and meEmbrace like winners shouldLike good sports doAs Mr. Chivers sips his third coffeeAnd twitches his bad kneeFrom his playing daysWhile miles awayAnnabel and IScore a convincing victoryAnd for once in our school lifeThe words “Physical Education”Make sense…
— Steven Herrick, Kissing Annabel: Love, Ghosts, and Facial Hair; A Place Like This
Draw me October on the window with rain.
— Bryanna Reid, #Thegreatsmag
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 to them," said Glinda, "To me."She turned eyes that were saucerly upon Glinda. "Mum?
— Gregory Maguire, Out of Oz
A sense of hopelessness had invaded his bones, as chill and as inescapable as the rain.
— Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess
The sky is grey, with a thin TV-static drizzle that hangs in the air like it's been freeze-framed.
— Scarlett Thomas, The End of Mr. Y
You see," the tourist went on, "you know that thing you do with seaweed?"Bethan, brought up on the Vortex Plains, had only heard of the sea in stories, and had decided she didn't like it. She looked blank. "Eat it?" "No, what you do is, you hang it up outside your door, and it tells you if it's going to rain." Another thing Bethan had learned was that there was no real point in trying to understand anything Twoflower said, and that all anyone could do was run alongside the conversation and hope to jump on it as it turned a corner."I see," she said. "Rincewind is like that, you see." "Like seaweed." "Yes. If there was anything at all to be frightened about, he'd be frightened. But he's not. The star is just about the only thing I've ever seen him not frightened of. If he's not worried, then take it from me, there's nothing to be worried about." "It's not going to rain?" said Bethan. "Well, no, metaphorically speaking." "Oh." Bethan decided not to ask what "metaphorically" meant, in case it had something to do with seaweed.
— Terry Pratchett, The Light Fantastic
Got caught in the rain, I see," - Isabelle Lightwood
— Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels
A slow hour passed, distracted by intermittent drops of moisture from above, as if the sky were conducting a feasibility study on the implications of rain. Of committing to a course of action.
— Colson Whitehead, The Intuitionist
For what are star-crossed lovers but a soul for another soul meant.
— R A I N
The eyelids of the burdened clouds let fall cascadesOf rain, and the parterred garden is spattered with drops.
— Abdullah Ibn al-Mu'tazz, Birds Through a Ceiling of Alabaster: Three Abbasid Poets
It was raining when Rahel came back to Ayemenem. Slanting silver ropes slammed into loose earth, plowing it up like gunfire. The old house on the hill wore its steep, gabled roof pulled over its ears like a low hat.
— Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things
If the American president is going to rain , then the White House must be busy now of making clouds
— mohsmustafa
When I see you plodding along through the rain in dull, drab mackintoshes, with your noses tucked into your collars, I long to offer you a little advice. It is this: fight the weather with contrasts ... You must create an artificial sun to replace the one who has hidden himself. So why not a brighter note in your dress instead of the eternal grey, black, brown or navy?
— Anna Pavlova
Before the downpour, Al had thought Lou looked alluring in her pale pink T-shirt and simple flowered skirt. Her soft brown waves bounced around her shoulders with the humidity. She was simply beautiful. But with the addition of water, she evolved into a siren. Her thin cotton clothes clung to every curve. She slicked her hair away from her face, as if emerging from an enchanted lake.
— Amy E. Reichert, The Coincidence of Coconut Cake
The both of us, we're individual parts on our own. She's the thunder and lightning and I'm the rain. It's only when we come together that it's right.We become the perfect storm. (Eric Carmen)
— Melyssa Winchester, Take Me with You
There’s a passage in John Steinbeck’s “East of Eden” that does a pretty good job describing California’s rainfall patterns:The water came in a 30-year cycle. There would be five to six wet and wonderful years when there might be 19 to 25 inches of rain, and the land would shout with grass. Then would come six or seven pretty good years of 12 to 16 inches of rain. And then the dry years would come ...
— John Steinbeck, East of Eden
I have been looking at the rain fall today. I think my life is like a raindrop. Sometimes I go straight down where I fall. But sometimes, outside forces take me places I not know to go. They move me in life, and I feel I do not have control to stop it. So, I go for my heart.
— Alex Z. Moores, Living in Water
Snap your fingerstop the world - rain falls harder
— Jack Kerouac
Lightning doesn't strike through a cave
— Goitsemang Mvula
The first bout of warm spring rain caused normally respectable women to pull off their stockings and run through muddy puddles alongside their children.
— Leslye Walton, The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender
The monsoons were the real thing
—  they dissolved things to the bone.
Once lively peonies nowwind-weary, and ragged at the edges, hang their heavy crowns; rain on their backs,one final act, beforedetaching from the stemand falling down.
— Kristen Henderson
How I hate the sight of an umbrella!
— Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
They buried him in dirt that smelled like broken batteries, and crouched in a fiberglass shed while the acid rain poured down to dissolve his flesh and bleach his bones.
— Dan Wells, Fragments
Do you see that patch of blue in the sky, fighting to be seen through the clouds?""Yes." She nodded, but her brows were scrunched in obvious confusion as to what his point would be."That was my life when I met you. After Mellie died, my life was a constant rainy day. I couldn't imagine the sun ever shining again. Then I met you, and the dark clouds started to drift away. I could see blue skies again and they were pushing out the clouds. As I got to know you, there were more blue skies and sunshine in my life.
— Leah Atwood, After the Rain
It's raining.the kind of rain that comes down so heavy it sounds like the shower's running, even when you've turned it off. The kind of rain that makes you think of dams and flash floods, arks. The kind of rain that tells you to crawl back into bed, where the sheets haven't lost your body heat, to pretend that the clock is five minutes earlier than it really is.Ask any kid who's made it past fourth grade and they can tell you: water never stops moving. Rain falls, and runs down a mountain into a river. The river finds it way to the ocean. It evaporates, like a soul, into the clouds. And then, like everything else, it starts all over again.
— Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper
She cares about fall’s magnificence in the rainThe dipping raindrops' dance assigning thence Indicated rhyme that eases her refrainBefore they met - her paces commence.
— Victoria Haugnes, Diary of the mad: A short story collection
Along the pavement-colored hall doors stood half open on either side, all the way down; each one was numbered in bright bald tin, each one stood just so much ajar in the gas-lit corridor. Just enough to reveal half-dressed men and women waiting for the rain or about to make love or already through loving and about to get drunk; or already half drunk and beginning to argue about how soon it was going to rain or whose turn it was to run down for whisky or whether it was time to make love again or forget it for once and just wait for rain.
— Nelson Algren, The Neon Wilderness
A plop of rain hit me on the face, one of those early raindrops that turns up five minutes ahead of all the others to let you know it's time to get indoors.
— Neil Gaiman, MirrorMask
I could feel the tears streaming down my face—in some kind of frenzied competition with the rain. At first, I tried to brush the tears away, but I finally let them take their course, unabated.
— Matt Abrams, She's Toxic
Limerick gained a reputation for piety, but we knew it was only the rain.
— Frank McCourt, Angela's Ashes
Rain is just like you, When it come, it gets cold.. When i remember, i feel blue
— Gold Atienza
The weather wouldn't settle down. It would rain cats and dogs, then stop, then drip awhile, then stop while it made up its mind what to do next.
— Glendon Swarthout, The Homesman
Rain caused one to reflect on the shadowed, more poignant parts of life—the inescapable sorrows, the speechless longings, the disappointments, the regrets, the cold miseries. It also allowed one the leisure to ponder questions unasked in the bustle of brighter days; and if one were snug under a sound roof, as Abel was, one felt somehow mothered, though mothers were nowhere around, and absolved of responsibilities.
— William Steig, Abel's Island
Raining agen it wer nex morning. Theres rains and rains. This 1 wer coming down in a way as took the hart and hoap out of you there wer a kynd of brilyants in the grey it wer too hard it wer too else it made you feal like all the tracks in the worl wer out paths nor not a 1 to bring you back. Wel of coarse they are but it dont all ways feal that way. It wer that kynd of morning when peopl wernt jus falling in to what they done naturel they had to work ther selfs in to it. Seamt like a lot of tea got spilt at breakfas nor the talk wernt the userel hummeling and mummeling there wer some thing else in it. Like when you see litening behynt the clouds.
— Russell Hoban, Riddley Walker
To be remembered, umbrella waits for the rain!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
The rain keeps starting and stopping like an anxious lover who doesn’t know if he should spend the night.
— Daniel José Older, Salsa Nocturna: Stories
All day, after two days and nights of rain, water had been rising in the dykes and now it was creeping rapidly up the five stone arches of the bridge where the she stood watching the wide rainy valley up which the tongue of river finally lost itself in a gray country of winter elms.
— H.E. Bates, The Feast of July
i am walking in the rain because no body can see my tear.
— Abbas
I'm dancing when the clouds start crying.
— Tanmaya Guru
Misty is the color of rain on a window.
— Anne Michaels, The Adventures of Miss Petitfour
Rain, rain, rain. Like a benediction from some vast inscrutable hand, long withheld, finally given. The blessed, wonderful rain. For rain meant grass, and grass was life.
— Colleen McCullough
Rain is sexy. I like rain. But the car will be cozy. I like cozy things more. And I like the things that make me cozy.
— Ritika Chhabra, A Dark Love
Pour on, I will endure.
— William Shakespeare
These were the rains that drove people close to the walls, under the balconies, or sent them dashing madly through the squares, and drenched the fluttering ribbons and bright trappings of the horses so that their flanks were streaked with delicate watercolors. The storms washed the streets so that little streams of brown water went roaring along the gutters toward the sea, and thundered on the roofs of the cafés where people were crowded together laughing in the steam and half darkness. I loved those rains; they were of the sort that is welcomed by everyone, preceded by hot, oppressive hours of stillness; they came the way storms come in the islands but did not last as long, and often the sun came out when they had passed. I was happy whenever the rain caught me walking about in the streets, for then I would rush into the nearest café, along with all the others who were escaping from the weather, all of us crushing laughing through the doors. The rain allowed me to go anywhere, to form quick, casual friendships, forced to share one of the overcrowded tables, among the beaming waiters who pushed good-naturedly through the throngs carrying cups of steaming apple cider.
— Sofia Samatar, A Stranger in Olondria
You want to do something very simple but also very fantastic? Then sit under the rain! Not long after, yourself will leave you and there will remain only the rain!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
Raindrops lingered in a melody of remembrance cast from the heavens above as I myself cast aside the dryness of the present day.
— Gina Marinello-Sweeney, The Rose and the Sword
When rain comes finally, washing away a low sky of muddy ocher, we who could not control the phenomenon are pressed into relief. The near-occult feeling: The face of being witness to the end of the world gives way to tangible things. Even if the succeeding sensations are not common, they are at least not mysterious.
— Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
I am the rain, when I'm on math I make the day horrible that's why the day is horrible, that's why I don't go outside.
— Deyth Banger
There's no question winter here can take a chunk out of you. Not like the extreme cold of the upper Midwest or the round-the-clock darkness of Alaska might, but rather the opposite. Here, it's a general lack of severity - monotonous flat gray skies and the constant drip-drip of misty rain - that erodes the spirit.
— Dylan Tomine, Closer to the Ground: An Outdoor Family's Year on the Water, in the Woods and at the Table
In March the soft rains continued, and each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sunk beneath the ground.
— John Steinbeck, East of Eden
Those who want rain, must also accept the mud.
— Anonymous
If wool shrinks when you wash it, why don't sheep get smaller when it rains?
— Ron Brackin
The sky, drunk with spring and giddy with its fumes, thickened with clouds. Low clouds, drooping at the edges like felt sailed over the woods and rain leapt from them, warm, smelling of soil and sweat, and washing the last of the black armor-plating of ice from the earth.
— Boris Pasternak
A drop of rain can revive the earth, be the drop
— Nisan Ahmado
We slid along water reds and greens, the changing lights captured in the canvas of wet tar.
— Ruth Reichl, Delicious!
a rainy walk through leaves will cure almost anything
— John J. Geddes
Thursday afternoon, the dark clouds closed in, and by Friday morning a heavy rain was falling. The mountain peaks were hazy sentinels, disappearing into misty fog that clung to the valley.
— Danika Stone, Edge of Wild
With new hope.We build new lives.Why complain when it rains?This is what it means to be free.
— Lawson Fusao Inada
Rain, hold me in your glassy arms—cover me in wet kisses
— John J. Geddes
HopeIt started out as snow,oh, big flakesfloating softly, catching on my sweater,lacy on the edges of my sleeves.Snow covered the dust, softened thefences, soothe the parched lipsof the land.And then it changedhalfway between snow and rain,sleet,glazing the earth.Until at lastit slipped into rain, light as mist.It was the kindest kind of rainthat fell.Soft and then a little heavier,helping alongwhat had already falleninto the hard-panearthuntil itrained,steady as a good friendwho walks beside you,not getting in your way,staying with you through a hard time.And because the rain came so patient and slow at first,and built up strength as the earthremembered how to yield,instead of washing off,the water slid in,into the dying groundand softened its stubborn pride,and eased it back toward life.
— Karen Hesse
...and with it would come that wonderful, unmistakable smell of rain, that smell of dust and water meeting that lingered for a few seconds in the nostrils and then was gone, and would be missed, sometimes for months, before the next time that it caught you and made you stop and say to the person with you, any person: That is the smell of rain, there, right now.
— Alexander McCall Smith, The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency
It is not the fault of the rain to drop in the ditch
— Prabakaran Thirumalai
Rain, rain falling downDown, down on the goundAll the birds go in the treesThey don't like the rain, you see.
— Lynda Mullaly Hunt, Fish in a Tree
I am not man so much as syndrome
—  as a voice that bellows in the human heart.I am rain.I cannot be contained
Heavy rains and a good book. A perfect extravagance.
— Carew Papritz, The Legacy Letters: his Wife, his Children, his Final Gift
Rain with an umbrella while holding hands with your lover is damned sure nice.
— Carew Papritz, The Legacy Letters: his Wife, his Children, his Final Gift
It's raining outside. How did you get here? And how did you get to be twenty-eight?
— Austin Grossman, You
And I don't care what age you are, kissing in the rain is the best.
— Carew Papritz, The Legacy Letters: his Wife, his Children, his Final Gift
Londoners, with their noses pressed to cold windows, smiled, for a mid-summer storm was raging across England. Zues had blessed their land, taking away the bright happy sun and replacing it with gusty winds, lashing rain and utter misery.
— Anya Wylde, Penelope
How much better does being alive get then sitting beside a warm fire amidst a misty rainy morning.
— Carew Papritz, The Legacy Letters: his Wife, his Children, his Final Gift
Rain with no shoes is just as much fun as rain with big rubber galoshes.
— Carew Papritz, The Legacy Letters: his Wife, his Children, his Final Gift
The wind whirls and whistles and strip pink blooms from the mimosas, scatters twigs, broken limbs, pine needles and pine cones across our yard, and robs the pecan trees of a thousand leaves. The storm eventually dies, but the bruised trees continue to weep into the night, still shimmering with dewy leaves when the sun comes up the next morning.
— Brenda Sutton Rose
Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.
— Sarah Kay
The sky in Seattle is so low, it felt like God had lowered a silk parachute over us. Every feeling I ever knew was up in that sky. Twinkling joyous sunlight; airy, giggle cloud wisps; blinding columns of sun. Orbs of gold, pink. flesh, utterly cheesy in their luminosity. Gigantic puffly clouds, welcoming, forgiving, repeating infinitely across the horizon as if between mirrors; and slices of rain, pounding wet misery in the distance now, but soon on us, and in another part of the sky, a black stain, rainless.
— Maria Semple, Where'd You Go, Bernadette
I need grit and struggle and Los Angeles is terribly nice, but people, once they get there, cease to be real. Constant and repetitive fulfillment is not good for the human spirit. We all need rain and good old depression. Life can't be all beer and skittles.
— Morrissey
Within this raindrop there must be a heart- a heart that weeps the pain of longing. I have her in my palm where the silvery rays of the morn reflect the beauty of the whole cosmos and I kiss her with all my yearning!
— Preeth Nambiar, The Solitary Shores
Nana always said the rain was Nature's way of adding sparkle to the outdoors.
— Evangeline Duran Fuentes, Cry on Hallow's Eve
It comes back all at once: a woman on a beach, a tree, a wind that calms, a rain that cleanses, but does not wet.
— Richard Payment, For Want of Wonders
Major Chhetri's pronouncement when we'd first arrived in Nepal came echoing back: "Things that start in the rain end well.
— Jane Wilson-Howarth, A Glimpse of Eternal Snows: A Journey of Love and Loss in the Himalayas
And then I realize: this isn’t dirty water falling from the sky.It is—literally—blood.I look up, and a droplet of blood splashes directly into my eye. I curse, rubbing my face, trying to get the blood out, but it’s everywhere, it’s like trying to dry off in the middle of the ocean. Shielding my face as best I can, I stare up into the sky.I am in the center of a cyclone.Giant white clouds swirl like a spiraling galaxy above me, the eye a tiny dark speck. The storm rages, throwing out bloody rain like punches, the wind so vicious it tears my clothes and cuts my skin.Representative Belles’s mind is swirling with dark thoughts—bloody thoughts—and they have created the biggest storm I have ever seen.I have to stop the cyclone. I have to get him into a peaceful reverie, something that he can hold on to while I root around his brain, looking for answers.I focus all of my concentration on stopping the bloody rain. The drops come slower and slower. I take a deep breath, imagining the clouds breaking up, spinning into fluffy bits of cotton-candy like clouds. I don’t open my eyes until the sounds of beating rain disappear and I can feel the warmth of the Mediterranean sun on my face.
— Beth Revis, The Body Electric
Tomorrow maybe love; but now it is the rainPossesses us entirely, the twilight and the rain.
— Alun Lewis
When this flood blocks the road I am worried more by my soil getting washed, than by getting late to reach my destination.
— Suman Pokhrel
Only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses. Nobody, not even the rain has such small hands.
— E.E. Cummings
The rain hit the windows like rice
—  the fire roared hollowly
This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly
— Thomas Hardy, The Complete Poems
Watching the rain is as beautiful as watching the sunset or the sunrise and it is even better because in addition to watching you can also listen to it, the fantastic music of the drop sounds!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
Not even a cat was out. The rain surged down with a steady drone. It meant to harm New York and everyone there. The gutters could not contain it. Long ago they had despaired of the job and surrendered. But the rain paid no attention to them… New York people never lived in houses or even in burrows. They inhabited cells in stone cliffs. They timed the cooking of their eggs by the nearest traffic light. If the light went wrong, so did the eggs…
— Barbara Newhall Follett, Lost Island
She inhaled again. 'You made it rain,' she said softly, delighted. 'Everyone needs a respite from the sun.
— Kathleen Tessaro, The Perfume Collector
Please tell me it's going to rain today, Francois.''Ah!' he smiled. (This was obviously familiar territory.) 'I regret to inform you that the forecast calls for nothing but sunshine.''Relentless sunshine,' she corrected him.
— Kathleen Tessaro, The Perfume Collector
The philosophy of the rain is very simple: No obstacle is obstacle when you are strongly determined!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
An optimist sees rainbows when there is rain.
— Debasish Mridha
Rained gently last night, just enough to wash the town clean, and then today a clean crisp fat spring day, the air redolent, the kind of green minty succulent air you'd bottle if you could and snort greedily on bleak, wet January evenings when the streetlights hzzzt on at four in the afternoon and all existence seems hopeless and sad.
— Brian  Doyle, Mink River
A person looked at me and said "I can't believe you eat ice cream when it's cold out" "I replied oh that's nothing I drink water also when it rains
— Stanley Victor Paskavich
If people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricaine
— John Green, Looking for Alaska
It was the kind of storm that suggests the whole sky has swallowed a diuretic.
— Terry Pratchett
Loving you is loosing my soul,I was in a lost battle, Death at my door,A dog in a backyard feels for my pain,Beer in a broken bottle wet paint and rain.
— Table No. 21
Rain drops are not synchronized yet they create that sound worth listening to.
— Sameera Pappu
Boy, it began to rain like a bastard. In buckets, I swear to God. All the parents and mothers and everybody went over and stood right under the roof of the carrousel, so they wouldn't get soaked to the skin or anything, but I stuck around on the bench for quite a while. I got pretty soaking wet, especially my neck and my pants. My hunting hat really gave me quite a lot of protection, in a way; but I got soaked anyway. I didn't care, though. I felt so damn happy all of a sudden, the way old Phoebe kept going around and around. I was damn near bawling, I felt so damn happy, if you want to know the truth. I don't know why. It was just that she looked so damn nice, the way she kept going around and around, in her blue coat and all. God, I wish you could've been there.
— J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
Sopping, and with no sign of stopping, either- then a breather. Warm again, storm again- what is the norm, again? It's fine, it's not, it's suddenly hot: Boom, crash, lightning flash!
— Old Farmer's Almanac
When people try to rain on your parade,...pee on theirs
— Josh Stern, And That's Why I'm Single: What Good Is Having A Lucky Horseshoe Up Your Butt When The Horse Is Still Attached?
Before falling to the ground, the rain has touched the sky. (Avant de tomber au sol, La pluie a touché le ciel)
— Charles de Leusse
Some of my pleasantest hours were during the long rain-storms in the spring or fall, which confined me to the house for the afternoon as well as the forenoon, soothed by their ceaseless roar and pelting; when an early twilight ushered in a long evening in which many thoughts had time to take root and unfold themselves. In those driving northeast rains which tried the village houses so, when the maids stood ready with mop and pail in front entries to keep the deluge out, I sat behind my door in my little house, which was all entry, and thoroughly enjoyed its protection.
— Henry David Thoreau
Let it rain to You and drips on me, together we will get wet
— Jan Jansen
When it rains like that, dark in the afternoon, you feel like you've been taken into the past.
— Jackie Kay, Wish I Was Here
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.
— Larissa Qat
Rain is disagreeable, but snow is as much part of the mountain as are sunshine and clear skies.
— Gaston Rébuffat
Like rain drops dripping on the floor like a thousand drumists beating those drums repeatedly,My blood runs through my veins ninety nine point nine metres per second when i think of you.
— Nomthandazo Tsembeni
Are you telling me Kara Orris is afraid of rain?” Hunter’s grin twisted into a smirk as his eyes lit up, relishing his new discovery with absolute delight. “Why, that’s adorable!
— Katherine McIntyre, Snatched
RAINI opened my eyesAnd looked up at the rain.And it dripped in my headAnd flowed into my brain,And all that I hear as I lie in my bedIs the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.I step very softly,I walk very slow,I can’t do a handstand-I might overflow,So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said-I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.
— Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends
Time falls on us, like rain, it falls like rain until we drown in it, and sometimes, it's like the drains overflow, and time just - pools up, it seeps, it gathers in the corners.
— Michael Montoure, Slices
It started to rain. Fat, heavy drops of summer rain - the kind that always struck her as vaguely lewd and debauched. Little potbellied drunkards, those summer raindrops, chortling on their way to earth and crashing open with glee.
— Tessa Dare, Romancing the Duke
The rain turns lighter, turns to snow. And I have a sense that we have not yet arrived, that we are still reaching. For each other. For who we are meant to be.
— Ally Condie, Crossed
Let it all go to waste…For what I long for, I’m bound to resign!Bittersweet is, like the taste of wine,This Love’s captivating taste.Let my heart be tormented by wonderIt will never manage to attain.On my window symphony of rain,Open seas resound in strikes of thunder.Let my soul be lost, ‘til Sun is set,And be found reborn within its death,I surrender the very last breath,Confessing my sins with no regret.Let it all go to waste, indeed.For with or without it, the sentence is pain.Therefore, in my stillness, silenced will remain,Everlasting dream and consuming need.
— Aleksandra Ninkovic
A beautiful rain is a treasure box. Inside this magical box there is an artistic umbrella, there is a pretty rainbow, there is a sweet bird singing and there is a lovely smell of earth! Something wonderful has a great potential to create some other wonderful things!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
She was back in western Washington state, where rain was so prevalent that a day of sunshine was the lead story on the local news.
— Susan Mallery, Barefoot Season
Rain in the Northwest is not the pounding, flashing performance enjoyed by the eastern part of the nation. Nor is it the festive annual soaking I'd been used to in Southern California. Rather, it's a seven-month drizzle that darkens the sky, mildews the bath towels, and propels those already prone to depression into the dim comforts of antihistamines and a flask.
— Melissa Hart, Wild Within: How Rescuing Owls Inspired a Family
It's hard to think of the divide where I grew up as a watershed. The creeks are dry most of the year, rainfall is undependable at best, and folks in one river system are always trying to steal water from another.
— Faith A. Colburn, Threshold
Jun was a calm lake; Tomo was a waterfall. And I was the water, swept every which way, unable to shape myself into what I wanted.
— Julie Kagawa
I will love you like the desert burns along the sun when they are together,and when you will be gone,just like every one else,I will cry for you like the snow that melts at the first hint of summer...and hoping that you'll be backI will miss you like the clouds lose themselves when it rains...
— Sanhita Baruah
How could I let a love go — one I’d been holding onto for so long — one that felt like home? It’s not easy to let go of the pieces, even though they’re the reason for my pain. I gripped them so hard that my blood fell like rain. But nothing, nothing could have prepared me for a new life with you — one I didn’t deserve, one I want to pursue.
— Rachel Van Dyken, Toxic
It's all nonsense. It's only nonsense. I'm not afraid of the rain. I'm not afraid of the rain. Oh, oh, God, I wish I wasn't.' She was crying. I comforted her and she stopped crying. But outside it kept on raining.
— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
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 and turned to enormous blows of dissolution. Then the rain fell like a waterfall. In a few seconds the ground was covered with water and over it, to a height of inches, rose a haze formed of a myriad minute splashes. Stupefied with the shock, unable even to move, the sodden rabbits crouched inert, almost pinned to the earth by the rain.
— Richard Adams, Watership Down
It is raining at the top of my roof and I'am inside my blanket in this chilling night with an open window, missing my love and listning the rain singing a lullaby to me.
— Shabnam Sinha
She isn't here, but aroundhere, in a deep raindisappearing.
— Jennifer Clarvoe, Invisible Tender
Not even a thousand tears can wash away the feelings I still have for you.
— Jason Trinh
Then there was a fine noise of rushing water from the crown of an oak at his back, as if a spigot there had been turned. Then the noise of fountains came from the crowns of all the tall trees. Why did he love storms, what was the meaning of his excitement when the door sprang open and the rain wind fled rudely up the stair, why had the simple task of shutting the windows of an old house seem fitting and urgent, why did the first watery notes of a storm wind have for him the unmistakable sound of good news, cheer, glad tidings?
— John Cheever, The Swimmer
Those who love the rain much cannot long remain dry!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
When the rain stops falling, the pain comes fooling.
— Faqdil
Rain is appealing. I can just stand out there letting the rain beat upon my back.
— Shabnam Sinha
The UmbrellaIon Bulbuk has bought an umbrella. “Knock-knock” – it is a neighbour at the door. “It is going to rain, Ion. Give me your umbrella, please.”“It is not in the house,” lied Bulbuk. It rains…Bulbuk is walking wet in the yard, for the neighbour to see that the umbrella is not at home. But the neighbour is not watching. He went in the village for his business.
— Spiridon Vangheli
Human beings say, "It never rains but it pours." This is not very apt, for it frequently does rain without pouring. The rabbits' proverb is better expressed. They say, "One cloud feels lonely": and indeed it is true that the sky will soon be overcast.
— Richard Adams, Watership Down
He looked like the sort of person who would tell you that he did not have an umbrella to lend you when he actually had several and simply wanted to see you get soaked.
— Lemony Snicket, When Did You See Her Last?
Why is it that showers and even storms seem to come by chance, so that many people think it quite natural to pray for rain or fine weather, though they would consider it ridiculous to ask for an eclipse by prayer?
— Henri Poincaré, Science and Method
I walk in the sprinkling rain like a lion. Pretty soon there won't be lions anymore. If I have to die to be a lion I'll die. I'm roaring, but in the language of rain and sand: I am invisible, I blend in, and I'm not hungry so everyone is safe. I can just observe them, join them, I can admire them, I can pity them and love them. They're so pathetically beautiful I could cry. How could I ever forget that this world is gorgeous and interesting? Every little detail is a gateway to huge canyons of knowledge and understanding. And it's all so sexy. Nothing is restrained, everything is perfectly, ripely, ravishingly itself, and swollen with signs and information that link it in the web.
— Richard Hell, Go Now
I like the rain
—  it brings your fragrance everywhere and the nature smells your aroma.
There's a theme that appears in much of your work," I say to Maurice on my last visit to Connecticut, "and I can only hint at it because it's difficult to formulate or describe. It has something to do with the lines: 'As I went over the water/the water went over me' [from As I Went over the Water] or 'I'm in the milk and the milk's in me' [from Night Kitchen].""Obviously I have one theme, and it's even in the book I'm working on right now. It's not that I have such original ideas, just that I'm good at doing variations on the same idea over and over again. You can't imagine how relieved I was to find out that Henry James admitted he had only a couple of themes and that all of his books were based on them. That's all we need as artists - one power-driven fantasy or obsession, then to be clever enough to do variations… like a series of variations by Mozart. They're so good that you forget they're based on one theme. The same things draw me, the same images…""What is this one obsession?""I'm not about to tell you - not because it's a secret, but because I can't verbalize it.""There's a line by Bob Dylan in 'Just Like a Woman' which talks about being 'inside the rain.'""Inside the rain?""When it's raining outside," I explain, "I often feel inside myself, as if I were inside the rain… as if the rain were my self. That's the sense I get from Dylan's image and from your books as well.""It's strange you say that," Maurice answers, "because rain has become one of the potent images of my new book. It sort of scares me that you mentioned that line. Maybe that's what rain means. It's such an important ingredient in this new work, and I've never understood what it meant. There was a thing about me and rain when I was a child: if I could summon it up in one sentence, I'd be happy to. It's such connected tissue…
— Jonathan Cott, Pipers at the Gates of Dawn: The Wisdom of Children's Literature
During the night a fine, delicate summer rain had washed the plains, leaving the morning sky crisp and clean. The sun shone warm—soon to bake the earth dry. It cast a purple haze across the plain—like a great, dark topaz. In the trees the birds sang, while the squirrels jumped from branch to branch in seeming good will, belying the expected tension of the coming days.
— Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23
And in the background of Early's story was her voice. Her soul. Her sadness and longing. Because when it's raining, it's always Billie Holiday. p. 81
— Clare Vanderpool, Navigating Early