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“When we are able to break free from the imprisonment of our little, small self-thinking and dare to face the essence of life, we recognize we are never at home with ourselves. We are always on the road. By challenging the unknown and the unidentified we are capable of opening our skyline. ("Transcendental journey")”
― Erik Pevernagie

“No hemming or hawing, no hinting or manipulation, no sledgehammer–subtlety may hold us back from claiming a climate of transparency and capturing an untainted and luminescent skyline, when the boldness of the truth is coming defiantly to the fore. ("Did not expect it would ever happen there" )”
― Erik Pevernagie

“At times, silence can be a welcoming and hospitable partner when we can let loose, and the flow of time is sending a comforting wave of sound vibrations gently opening the skyline. ("A gap of silence")”
― Erik Pevernagie

“Maybe we're just falling stars, we once danced in the same skyline looking down at the world. And we've fallen like all others, from near and far, we've gathered together, but separated by time and space, keeping a part of that light that we've came with and spreading it in this dark world that we've chosen to live in, in order to shine some light and love around. Maybe we've chosen to believe one truth today, and find it to be false tomorrow. Maybe we're trying to not get attached to the idea that we now know it all. At night, we see the truth of where we've fallen from, gazing in that night sky full of distant stars, constellations, planets, the reflection of the sun on the moon, all with their own stories to tell. Sometimes we wonder why would we leave such a mysterious place, with an infinite amount of stories and wonders. Maybe it's because as stars we could've only seen each other's light from afar, but here we can listen more carefully to each other's story, embrace each other and kiss, discover more and more of what can be seen when infinite star dust potential is put into one body and given freedom to walk the Earth and wander, love and enjoy every moment until coming back. Maybe in the morning, we'll only see one star shining up there and forget the others. Maybe that is also how life and death is, and the beauty of the sunrise and sunset that come in between, our childhood years and old years, when we reflect on the stars that we once were and that we will once again be. Maybe, just maybe.”
― Virgil Kalyana Mittata Iordache

“I breathe in...
The sights and smells
Of this city
I’ve come to know...
So well
I gaze...
Across the turquoise ocean
Where the waves
Liberate my spirit...
From its shell

I breathe in...
The brilliant sky line
Where the birds
Emerge shyly
From the dappled sunshine
I breathe in...
The gently...
Blowing winds
That soothe me
Like a mother, around her child

I breathe in...
The sounds of laughter
Pure and pretty
Like the golden-green butterfly
I’m always after
I breathe in...
The closeness,
I have always shared
With people,
Who almost knew me,
Almost cared

I breathe in...
The comfort
Of my home,
The safe walls,
The scents of childhood
On the pillows
I breathe in...the silence
Of my own heart
Aching with tenderness...
With memories..
Of home

I breathe... in...
The fragrance
Of love, and moist sand
The one...
His roses left...
On both my hands
And I just keep on breathing
Every moment
As much as I can
Preserving it, in my body
For the day
It can’t

So I breathe in..
Once again..
Feeling life's energy
Fizzing through my cells
Never knowing
What awaits me
Or what's going to happen to me..
Next
I breathe in
This moment...
Knowing it's either life
Or it's death
I close my eyes,
And breathe in
Just believing in myself.”
― Sanober Khan, A touch, a tear, a tempest

“From the floor, I see the tops of the Philadelphia skyline out of her window. Staring at it, I realize that the night sky isn't really black, which is the way I've always thought of it. It's actually a dark shade of blue, the darkest possible.”
― Siobhan Vivian, Same Difference

“The panorama-city is a 'theoretical' (that is, visual) simulacrum, in short a picture, whose condition of possibility is an oblivion and a misunderstanding of practices.”
― Michel de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life

“I breathed in the night air that was or was not laced with anachronistic blossoms and felt the small thrill I always felt to a lesser or greater degree when I looked at Manhattan’s skyline and the innumerable illuminated windows and the liquid sapphire and ruby of traffic on the FDR Drive and the present absence of the towers.”
― Ben Lerner, 10:04

“The ride had begun.

The theatre and club spectaculars seemed to stick up into the sky at all sorts of crazy angles, probably because most of them were planted diagonally on rooftops. Follow Thru, Whoopee, Show Boat, El Fay Club, Club Richman, Texas Guinan's. It gave the town the appearance of standing on its ear. ("The Number's Up")”
― Cornell Woolrich

“The San Francisco skyline sparkles in the distance, the bay spread out before it like a shark-infested welcome mat.”
― T.T. Monday, Double Switch

“The moon was a lightbulb dangling from a high ceiling, But in Brooklyn, there were no stars. Not in the sky. Miles, climbed along side his building up to the roof. Once there, he looked out at the New York City skyline and imagined that all the stars that were supposed to be there had fallen, and now sparkled much closer to the ground.”
― Jason Reynolds, Miles Morales Suspended

“She looked out at the city. All of Tevanne was smeared with starlit smoke and steam, a ghostly cityscape sinking into the fog. The huge white campo walls surfaced among the ramble of the Commons like the bones ofa bleached whale. Behind them stood the towers of the campos, which glowed with soft, colorful luminescence. Among them was the Michiel clock tower, its face a bright, cheery pink, and beyond that was the Mountain of the Candianos, the biggest structure in all of Tevanne, a huge dome that reminded her of a fat, swollen tick, sitting in the center of the Candiano campo.
She felt lonely, and small. Sancia had always been alone. But feeling lonely was different from just being alone.”
― Robert Jackson Bennett, Foundryside

“The River Thames was catching reflections of city lights in its watery gaze. The Shard cut through the night like a silent mountain, it stood tall, brightly lit, and aloof, while the older buildings shimmered in the background, showcasing the many scars of London’s troubled history.”
― Ryan Gelpke, Dying in Champoussin

“The skyline was a jagged silhouette against the setting sun, a collage of monetary ambition and cultural decadence.”
― Ryan Gelpke, Dying in Champoussin