"The idea of immortality, that like a sea has ebbed and flowed in the human heart, with its countless waves of hope and fear, beating against the shores and rocks of time and fate, was not born of any book, nor of any creed, nor of any religion. It was born of human affection, and it will continue to ebb and flow beneath the mists and clouds of doubt and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of death. It is the rainbow — Hope shining upon the tears of grief."

"There was an awful rainbow once in heaven; We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings."

"Pride of the dewy morning, The swain's experienced eye From thee takes timely warning, Nor trusts the gorgeous sky."

"We could not keep in mind that it was celestial fire we were looking at, — fire cool as the water-drops out of which it was born, and on which it reclined. It lay apparently upon the trees, diffused itself among them, from the valley to the crown of the ridge, as gently as the glory in the bush upon Horeb, when "the angel of the Lord appeared unto Moses in a flame of fire, out of the midst of a bush; and he looked, and behold the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed." It seemed like nothing less than a message to mortals from the internal sphere, — the robe of an angel, awful and gentle, come to bear a great truth to the dwellers in the valley. And it was, no doubt. It meant all that the discerning eye and reverent mind felt it to mean. That Arabian bush would have been vital with no such presence, perhaps, to the gaze of a different soul."

"Consider now the token of the covenant which God gave to Noah. It was the rainbow. What is the rainbow? Sunlight turned back to our eye, through drops of falling rain. What sign could be more simple? And yet what sign could be more perfect? Noah's sons would fear that another flood was coming, perhaps flood after flood. The token of the rainbow said to them. No. Floods and rain are not to be the custom of this earth. Sunshine is to be the custom of it. Do not fear the clouds and storm and rain; look at the bow in the cloud, in the very rain itself. That is a sign that the sun, though you cannot see it, is shining still. That up above, beyond the cloud, is still sunlight, and warmth, and cloudless blue sky. Believe in God's covenant. Believe that the sun will conquer the clouds, warmth will conquer cold, calm will conquer storm, fair will conquer foul, light will conquer darkness, joy will conquer sorrow, life conquer death, love conquer destruction and the devouring floods; because God is light, God is love, God is life, God is peace and joy eternal and without change, and labours to give life, and joy, and peace, to man and beast and all created things. This was the meaning of the rainbow. Not a sudden or strange token, a miracle, as men call it, like as some voice out of the sky, or fiery comet, might have been; but a regular, orderly, and natural sign, to witness that God is a God of order. Whenever there was a rainy day there might be a rainbow. It came by the same laws by which everything else comes in the world. It was a witness that God who made the world is the friend and preserver of man; that His promises are like the everlasting sunshine which is above the clouds, without spot or fading, without variableness or shadow of turning."

"She was sick with nausea so deep that she perished as she sat. And then, in the blowing clouds, she saw a band of faint iridescence colouring in faint colours a portion of the hill. And forgetting, startled, she looked for the hovering colour and saw a rainbow forming itself. In one place it gleamed fiercely, and, her heart anguished with hope, she sought the shadow of iris where the bow should be. Steadily the colour gathered, mysteriously, from nowhere, it took presence upon itself, there was a faint, vast rainbow. The arc bended and strengthened itself till it arched indomitable, making great architecture of light and colour and the space of heaven, its pedestals luminous in the corruption of new houses on the lowhill, its arch the top of heaven. And the rainbow stood on the earth. She knew that the sordid people who crept hard-scaled and separate on the face of the world's corruption were living still, that the rainbow was arched in their blood and would quiver to life in their spirit, that they would cast off their horny covering of disintegration, that new, clean, naked bodies would issue to a new germination, to a new growth, rising to the light and the wind and the clean rain of heaven. She saw in the rainbow the earth's new architecture, the old, brittle corruption of houses and factories swept away, the world built up in a living fabric of Truth, fitting to the over-arching heaven."

"If you mean that the proximity of one color should give beauty to another that terminates near it, observe the rays of the sun in the composition of the rainbow, the colors of which are generated by the falling rain, when each drop in its descent takes every color of the bow."

"I will make company with creators, with harvesters, with rejoicers; I will show them the rainbow and the stairway to the Superman."

"The way I see it, if you want the rainbow you gotta be willing to put up with the rain."

"May I create plain fields by collecting clouds and bedeck them with arching rainbows."

"Life throws challenges and every challenge comes with rainbows and lights to conquer it."

"The sky itself is the eighth color of the rainbow, spread over the whole sky for us, all the time."

"What skilful limner o'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?"

"Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray, Each in the other melting."

"The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched."

"Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky!"

"So the rainbow appear, The world hath no fear, Until thereafter forty year."

"Hung on the shower that fronts the golden West, The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes! In hues of ancient promise there imprest; Frail in its date, eternal in its guise."

"We of many cultures, languages and races are become one nation. We are the Rainbow People of God."

"Bright pledge of peace and sunshine! the sure tie Of thy Lord's hand, the object of His eye! When I behold thee, though my light be dim, Distinct, and low, I can in thine see Him Who looks upon thee from His glorious throne, And minds the covenant between all and One."

"An argument can be legitimately sustained only if the participants are speaking about the same level. Argumentation would — for the most part — be replaced with something akin to Niels Bohr's principle of complementarity. Information from and about the different vibratory levels of bands of consciousness — although superficially as different as X-Rays and radio waves — would be integrated and synthesized into one spectrum, one rainbow. … Each band or level, being a particular manifestation of the spectrum, is what it is only by virtue of the other bands. The color blue is no less beautiful because it exists along side the other colors of a rainbow, and "blueness" itself depends upon the existence of the other colors, for if there were no color but blue, we would never be able to see it. In this type of synthesis, no approach, be it Eastern or Western, has anything to lose — rather, they all gain a universal context."

"In the face of the sun are great thunderbolts hurled, And the storm-clouds have shut out its light; But a Rainbow of Promise now shines on the world, And the universe thrills at the sight."

"Why are there so many songs about rainbows And what's on the other side? Rainbows are visions, but only illusions, And rainbows have nothing to hide. So we've been told and some choose to believe it I know they're wrong, wait and see. Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, The lovers, the dreamers and me."

"If allowed may I touch your hand And if pleased may I once again So that you too will understand There's a ribbon in the sky for our love."

"We can't lose with God on our side, We'll find strength in each tear we cry, From now on it will be you and I, And our ribbon in the sky, Ribbon in the sky, A ribbon in the sky for our love."

"My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky! So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die!"

"Notre Dame des Neiges."

"O the snow, the beautiful snow, Filling the sky and earth below; Over the house-tops, over the street, Over the heads of the people you meet, Dancing, flirting, skimming along."

"Mais où sont les neiges d'antan?"

"Lawn as white as driven snow."

"For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven's back."

"O that I were a mockery king of snow, Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, To melt myself away in water drops!"

"A little snow, tumbled about, anon becomes a mountain."

"Mais où sont les neiges d'antan? C'estoit le plus grand soucy qu'eust Villon, le poëte parisien."

"As I saw fair Chloris walk alone, The feather'd snow came softly down, As Jove, descending from his tow'r To court her in a silver show'r. The wanton snow flew to her breast, As little birds into their nest; But o'ercome with whiteness there, For grief dissolv'd into a tear. Thence falling on her garment hem, To deck her, froze into a gem."

"Sancta Maria ad Nives."

"Snow forms mainly when water vapor turns to ice without going through the liquid stage. This process is called deposition. Snow can form in the gentle updrafts of stratus clouds or at high altitudes in very cold regions of a thunderstorm. Snowflakes that most of us are used to seeing are not individual snow crystals, but are actually aggregates, or collections, of snow crystals that stick or otherwise attach to each other. Aggregates can grow to very large sizes compared to individual snow crystals."

"...the wind had dropped, and the snow, tired of rushing around in circles trying to catch itself up, now fluttered gently down until it found a place on which to rest, and sometimes the place was Pooh's nose and sometimes it wasn't and in a little while Piglet was wearing a white muffler round his neck and feeling more snowy behind the ears than he had ever felt before."

"Huey: Days like this, I look out at all the snow and think. Man, this is beautiful… Then I wonder – is it really beautiful, or have we just been conditioned to think of everything “white” as beautiful? Is my mind, perhaps, not as liberated from the slave mentality as I thought? Then I think, what if snow were brown? Would I find it as nice to look at, or would it look “dirty”? Is this indicative that somewhere within my subconscious lurks some heretofore undiscovered self-hate?"

"国境のトンネルを越えると雪国であった。夜の底が白くなった。"

"琴詩酒友皆抛我雪月花時最憶君"

"Then, on the silence of the snows there lay A Sabbath's quiet sunshine,—and its bell Filled the hushed air awhile, with lonely sway; For the stream's voice was chained by Winter's spell, The deep wood-sounds had ceased."

"My! it was fine, coming through the snow as the red sun was rising and showing against the black tree trunks! As you went along in the stillness, every now and then masses of snow slid off the branches suddenly with a flop! making you jump and run for cover. Snow castles and snow caverns had sprung up out of nowhere in the night-and snow bridges, terraces, ramparts-I could have stayed and played with them for hours."

"The snow was getting so deep they could hardly drag their little legs through it, and the trees were thicker and more like each other than ever. There seemed to be no end to this wood, and no beginning, and no difference in it, and worst of all, no way out."

"Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow."

"But he sent her Good-by, And said to be good, And wear her red hood, And look for skunk tracks In the snow with an ax — And do everything!"

"If, as they say, some dust thrown in my eyes Will keep my talk from getting overwise, I'm not the one for putting off the proof. Let it be overwhelming, off a roof And round a corner, blizzard snow for dust, And blind me to a standstill if it must."

"The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock treeHas given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued."