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On the mainland, a rain was falling. The famous Seattle rain. The thin, gray rain that toadstools love. The persistent rain that knows every hidden entrance into collar and shopping bag. The quiet rain that can rust a tin roof without the tin roof making a sound in protest. The shamanic rain that feeds the imagination. The rain that seems actually a secret language, whispering, like the ecstasy of primitives, of the essence of things.
Tom Robbins
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Interpretation

What this quote means

This quote celebrates the unique qualities of Seattle's rain and its profound impact on the environment and creativity.

In this quote, Tom Robbins personifies Seattle's rain, describing its characteristics and the influence it has on both nature and human imagination. The rain, depicted as a gentle yet persistent force, becomes a metaphor for inspiration and the deeper connections found in life's subtleties, inviting readers to appreciate the beauty and significance of seemingly ordinary elements of the world.

Themes

RainImaginationNatureCreativitySeattle

In practice

Example use cases

During a poetry reading to evoke the beauty of nature.

More from Tom Robbins

We're our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.
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I'm an outlaw, not a philosopher, but I know this much: there's meaning in everything, all things are connected, and a good champagne is a drink.' Bernard began to sing again. Timidly, Leigh-Cheri joined in. Between verses, they opened another bottle. The popping of its cork echoed throughout the great stone chamber. Of the three billion people on earth, only Bernard and Leigh-Cheri heard the popping of the cork and its echoes. Only Bernard and Leigh-Cheri passed out under the tablecloth.
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The Divine was beyond description, beyond knowing, beyond comprehension. To say that the Divine was Creation divided by Destruction was as close as one could come to definition. But the puny of soul, the dull of wit, weren't content with that. They wanted to hang a face on the Divine. They went so far as to attribute petty human emotions - anger, jealousy, etc - to it, not stopping to realize that if God were a being, even a supreme being, our prayers would have bored him to death long ago.
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On their sofas of spice and feathers, the concubines also slept fretfully. In those days the Earth was still flat, and people dreamed often of falling over edges.
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