Lightning streaks like gunfire through the clouds, volleys of thunder shake the air. – Edward Abbey
What ideal, immutable Platonic cloud could equal the beauty and perfection of any ordinary everyday cloud floating over, say, Tuba City, Arizona, on a hot day in June? – Edward Abbey
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. – Edward Abbey
Belief in God? An afterlife? I believe in rock: this apodictic rock beneath my feet. – Edward Abbey
It was one of those hot, silent nights, when people sit at windows, listening for the thunder which they know will shortly break; when they recall dismal tales of hurricanes and earthquakes; and of lonely travellers on open plains, and lonely ships at sea, struck by lightning. – Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit, Chapter XLII