The drops of rain make a hole in the stone, not by violence, but by oft falling.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
The fall of dropping water wears away the Stone.
The rain began again. It fell heavily, easily, with no meaning or intention but the fulfilment of its own nature, which was to fall and fall.
The stones tear like flesh, rather than breaking. Although what happens is violent, it is a violence that is in stone. A tear is more unnerving than a break.
It's a relief to hear the rain. It's the sound of billions of drops, all equal, all equally committed to falling, like a sudden outbreak of democracy. Water, when it hits the ground, instantly becomes a puddle or rivulet or flood.
The rain begins with a single drop.
Many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away the hunger.
Into each life some rain must fall.
Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another.
One can find so many pains when the rain is falling.
Violence is like a weed - it does not die even in the greatest drought.