Iain Banks Quotes

Who needs the sun, when the rain is so full of life?

Even stone can be worn down with enough rain.

I think of rivers, of tides. Forests and water gushing out. Rain and lightning. Rocks and shadows. All of these are in me.

The rain was still crashing down, angrily machine-gunning the large windows; it poured through the gutters up in the tower and funneled along the flat roof, sounding like footsteps on the ceiling.

You do not have to explain every single drop of water contained in a rain barrel. You have to explain one drop-H2O. The reader will get it.

Water is the mother of the vine, the nurse and fountain of fecundity, the adorner and refresher of the world.

Even the village rain-maker no longer claimed to be able to intervene. He could not stop the rain now, just as he would not attempt to start it in the heart of the dry season, without serious danger to his own health.

I want to do the right things - I want to plant trees, I want to make sure that the indigenous forests are protected because I know, whatever happens, these are the forests that contain biodiversity, these are the forests that help us retain water when it rains and keep our rivers flowing, these are the forests that many future generations will need.

I think that we need history as much as we need bread or water or love.

When you look at that nature world it becomes an icon, it becomes a holy picture that speaks of the origins of the world. Almost every mythology sees the origins of life coming out of water. And, curiously, that's true. It's amusing that the origin of life out of water is in myths and then again, finally, in science, we find the same thing. It's exactly so.

Even in the darkness, every color can be found. And every day of rain brings water flowing to things growing in the ground.

Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters.

Our bodies are molded rivers.

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled after a night of rain. I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold into my body, waking the bones. I hear them deep inside me, whispering oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

I'm tired, it's raining, and I am not a waterlily.

Much rain wears the marble.

Nothing reminds us of an awakening more than rain.

We are no guiltier in following the primative impulses that govern us than is the Nile for her floods or the sea for her waves.

Well, but you two are dancing around in your iridescent little downpour, whooping and stomping as sane people ought to do when they encounter a thing so miraculous as water.

You don't need water to feel like you're drowning, do you?

It is a fascinating and provocative thought that a body of water deserves to be considered as an organism in its own right.

If people were like rain, I was like drizzle and she was a hurricane.