The rain began again. It fell heavily, easily, with no meaning or intention but the fulfilment of its own nature, which was to fall and fall.
Rain! whose soft architectural hands have power to cut stones, and chisel to shapes of grandeur the very mountains.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... It's about learning to dance in the rain.
Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.
Rain is not only drops of water. It's the love of the sky for the earth. They never meet each other but sends love this way.
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.