If the world's a veil of tears, Smile till rainbows span it.

I like to live in a world of unicorns and rainbows where I don't pay attention to anything unless it's positive.

Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.

Marriage is not all rainbows and butterflies; you have to give in to your partner's whims every now and then, and that's a two-way street.

All of the Antilles, every island, is an effort of memory: every mind, every racial biography culminating in amnesia and fog. Pieces of sunlight through the fog and sudden rainbows, arcs-en-ciel. That is the effort, the labour of the Antillean imagination, rebuilding its gods from bamboo frames, phrase by phrase.

"I empathize with those of you who have struggled long and hard with few rainbows and even less sunny days. Life for you as been an uphill battle.

I see myself as a Scottish sky: there are rain clouds, rainbows and sunrays that run and overtake one another, mingle together and dance with each other! You see all of this within seconds of looking up! It's a living sky, it breathes and it's real! And I think that when you look at me, you'll see my rain clouds first, because only after rainclouds can there come the rainbows. You see, if the rainbows come first, then the rainbows aren't even real, so I think that if people deserve to see my real rainbows, then they will just know that they need to stick around through the rain! Like a Scottish sky, I want to be real and breathing and running. I don't want to be a clear blue all the time, or a dark grey all the time or have fake rainbows painted onto me; I want to be Scottish.

Dance through life flinging kindness like shimmering rainbows. Find your bliss by sharing your heart.

You can be the most beautiful person in the world and everybody sees light and rainbows when they look at you, but if you yourself don't know it, all of that doesn't even matter. Every second that you spend on doubting your worth, every moment that you use to criticize yourself; is a second of your life wasted, is a moment of your life thrown away. It's not like you have forever, so don't waste any of your seconds, don't throw even one of your moments away.

...I wondered if it was blasphemous to tell God that rainbows are kitsch.

Oh, God of Dust and Rainbows

Rainbows give out smiles as one would give out candy.

Rainbows give love color.

Rainbows color my day.

Rainbows create their own smiles.

Rainbows are what put love and happiness for everyone.

"Oh, God of Dust and Rainbows

It takes sunshine and rain to make a rainbow. There would be no rainbows without sunshine and rain.

The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody'd move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and they're pretty, skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be weaving that same blanket. Nobody's be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you'd be so much older or anything. It wouldn't be that, exactly. You'd just be different, that's all. You'd have an overcoat this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you'd have a new partner. Or you'd have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you'd heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you'd just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you'd be different in some way-I can't explain what I mean. And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd feel like it.

Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars? Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic. It is such a simple and such an extraordinary part of the lives we live.

If the world's a veil of tears Smile till rainbows span it.

Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.

For the past two years President Obama has promised our children the moon stars rainbows unicorns and universal health care for all. But the White House Santa's cradle-to-grave entitlement mandates are a spectacularly predictable bust.