C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


  • Are there no stones in heaven
  • But what serve for the thunder?
  • Shakespeare.

  • Thy thunder, conscious of the new command,
  • Rumbles reluctant o’er our fallen house.
  • Keats.

  • Far along,
  • From peak to peak the rattling crags among,
  • Leaps the live thunder.
  • Byron.

    The herald, earth-accredited, of heaven,—which when men hear, they think upon heaven’s king, and run the items over of the account to which he is sure to call them.

    Sheridan Knowles.

  • The thunder,
  • That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc’d
  • The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass.
  • Shakespeare.

  • To stand against the deep, dread-bolted thunder?
  • In the most terrible and nimble stroke
  • Of quick, cross lightning?
  • Shakespeare.

  • The thunder,
  • Wing’d with red lightning and impetuous rage,
  • Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
  • To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.
  • Milton.

  • A storm-cloud lurid with lightning,
  • And a cry of lamentation,
  • Repeated and again repeated,
  • Deep and loud
  • As the reverberation
  • Of cloud answering unto cloud,
  • Swells and rolls away in the distance,
  • As if the sheeted
  • Lightning retreated,
  • Baffled and thwarted by the wind’s resistance.
  • Longfellow.