“There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog.”

“At the edge of heaven, tatters of autumnCloud. After ten thousand miles of clearLovely morning, the west wind arrives. Here,Long rains haven't slowed farmers. FrontierWillows air thin kingfisher colors, andRed fruit flecks mountain pears. As a flute's Mongol song drifts from a tower, oneGoose climbs clear through vacant skies.”

“Inside that darkness, i saw rain falling on the sea. Rain softly falling on a vast sea, with no one there to see it. The rain strikes the surface of the sea, yet even the fish don't know it is raining.”

“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.”

“Sometimes a soft touch can accomplish more than a thousand swords.”

“Winter hurled more wind and rain at the city than it ever had before. Clouds dashed about in all directions emptying their thunder, hail and rain. The horizon was choked in fog.”