1,262 Quotes About Rain

Falling asleep while the rain is clashing down on the window is nature’s best lullaby.

There is a way of walking through rain without getting hit by a single drop - you just have to find what it is.

Thunder erupted over head as I watched him go. I felt the rain start to hit my head, getting me soaked in an instant. Before he went into his house, he turned back one more time and looked at me with those sad eyes. “Looks like you have your storm.” And then he was gone, leaving me standing out in the rain.

There's a storm brewing.""You mean the weather, right?"Ash shook his head slowly as his senses tingled. No, there was something coming for them. He could feel it. Dark and deadly, it wanted a piece of him."Don't worry, Sota. I'll keep you dry." But even as he said the words, he knew the truth. He wasn't her haven. She was his, and so long as he had her by his side, he could face anything. "Bring the rain," he whispered," bring the rain.

Autumn is grey rainy afternoons, and fond memories of raking up leaves into tidy neat piles, just to jump in a spread them around again.

I went back to my car again and sat and sat. The top dripped on my knees and my stomach burned from the whiskey. No more cars came up the hill. No lights went on in the house before which I was parked. It seemed like a nice neighborhood to have bad habits in.

It was raining again the next morning, a slanting gray rain like a swung curtain of crystal beads. I got up feeling sluggish and tired and stood looking out of the windows, with a dark, harsh taste of Sternwoods still in my mouth. I was as empty of life as a scarecrow's pockets. I went out to the kitchenette and drank two cups of black coffee. You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. I had one from women.

Overhead the rain still pounded, with a remote sound, as if it was somebody else's rain.

Spring has finally come and the air has that fresh, muddy smell from rain earlier today. I think the sun should never set before eight p.m. There should be a rule. “Petrichor,”Charles says, walking beside me, his hands in his pockets and his satchel over his shoulder. The word for that smell you’ve been inhaling as if it’ll get you high. It’s called petrichor. The stones release oils when they get wet, and that’s what the smell is.