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A Goodreads user asked:

"The sun-- looks like a pat of softened butter-- melting-- into a warm, creamy mashed-potatoes cloud-- in the middle of a bottomless powder-blue bowl." This is another way I'd describe the sky in my own words at times...what about you? How would you explain the sky’s appearance to someone, like how Max asked Liesel to creatively express it in her own words?

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James Joyce "The sun pinned me down, like a cop's flashlight. Merciless. So bright I became blind to everything, but that circle of light. I surrendered, to it."
Sailor Mercury The sun spills itself on the horizon, across an endless mass of blue, a watery orange and pink mess cascading it's warm rays across the world.
May "The hues and shades granted from the sun’s strokes scattered from the west, the lingering half of the sun brushed against cotton underbellies. A painter had spilled his watercolors across the canvas sky, letting the colors run into one another behind the seafoam clouds that splayed lazily across the sky, moving ever so slowly in wave-like motions." I had written this description a few years ago
Rose K. "The sky is a soft, light blue lampshade infinitely surrounding the brightest bulb of a golden spiky sun, whose warm tendrils brighten up the grass beneath it." That's how I would describe the sky! In fact, I was trying to come up with the answer to that question in my mind as I was reading the book.
Sam The sky is like a swirling mass of ice that circles around a bright, yellow slice of lemon. Sorry, I'm trying to be poetic and seem to be failing.
Dave Wegner The sky will be blue, believe me, very blue. No one does blue skies like I do blue skies and the sky is going to be incredibly blue...hugely blue. A lot of people are saying how blue it's going to be. We don't get blue skies anymore, we used to have blue skies but we don't have them now. When's the last time we had a blue sky? I can get blue skies all the time. We'll have many blue skies and they'll be, frankly, very blue

--Donald Trump
Abbie Hartley In the east it's difficult to tell where the mountains end and the dark grey bellies of the clouds, the puzzle pieces of last nights winter storm, begin. In the west, clouds hang heavy and broken in a snow scrubbed sky, the piercing blue a hopeful reminder of warmer days that will make clouds, of another sort, bloom in the cherry trees.
Peter A yawning expanse, threatening to swallow me in its exceptional scope. This is a canvass without equal, on which the divine paintings and exquisite whims of God take their place.
Abby The sun seamlessly melted into a bright white sky, the fog encircling and chilling us even in the warmth of late May
Dinaz The sky looks like fluffs of cotton candy wafting through a mass of an endless ocean.
Sarah Were you hungry when you wrote this? Now I'm hungry, thanks a lot. Lol!
Micah A This book is sad.
Ishwar Ramkumar The sun is a mass ball of fire that is the essence of death. The irresistible yet tedious task of staring into its beauty, only to find out that it sucks the life out of you, a living medusa, look into it and you will be blinded (see what I did there) by its beauty. Go near it and the warmth that it shrouds will overcome you and you will be nothing more than a pile of black ashes, killed by a masked death ray giving off ultra violent beams (I did it again).
Megan a creamy splotch of kerneled yellow, shucked from the cob, and patted down by an armada of white ships
T.R. Winters The sun was a blob of gold in the middle of a sea of white. It looked like a giant was frying an egg in a colossal blue skillet.
Ashley The sky is a windy ocean, untouchable above the world, filled with fluffy fairy floss puffs of cloud and one bright beach ball that you have to squint to see properly. It's filled with blinding rays, invisible but present, shining outwards like the end of the world.
Jay "The Sun got shy and took refuge beneath an impermeable cloud, but his pink cheeks blushed so hard they spread his warmth all over the sky, filling what was once an empty canvas with a thousand different emotions." how ,much would you rate it out of 10, and if you could replace 5 words, which ones would those be?
Miranda The sky itself was a brilliant canvas that humans hardly ever paid attention to, often more likely to amuse themselves in dead, blocks, of metal called cellphones.
The sky was brushed with a tone of blue that could only be described as freedom. It was a few shades lighter and even more translucent than the waves of the great ocean; It was a yawning expanse of this breathtaking blue that was so alive it seemed to be able to scoop you off your feet and twirl you through a waltz in the sky.
Elspeth Burke Oh no!!!! I would rapidly close the book if I read that line. Tout de soute!!!!
Kendal I really like your unique way of describing the sky. There is a thousand different ways to describe the sky, and some descriptions fit for different days. However, on a nice summer day the sky is an endless empty space. The color is a rich painful blue that lights up the day. The only thing visible in the sky other than the blue is the thriving sun, no white clouds.
Algernon Wyck The sky is a beautiful shade of dark grey, the stars pinpricks of light from another time, world of their own, forever shining in a sphere of movement.
Annerie The sky is like an inkwell and the moon is like a small hole through which the ink seeps through, leaving hundreds of little clear dots.
Bookaddict stuti The sky looks like soft fluffy cotton candy as it slowly dissolves into dark purple and then the moon lit darkness which is sad yet somehow mesmerizing as you gaze at it and attempt to caress the stars which are so near yet so far/
Akshat Sapra A hanging sphere, which is lit up by god before anyone comes to know of its existence, fading to the glowing white embers.
Christine The sky is an endless highway into the 'never ever'.
I flew to the land where the sun refuses to set. Having gone to Finnlandia to view the Northern Lights as many green and iridescent, incandescent blue nebulas (impossibly beautiful, hard to describe)...
I saw glimpses of the 'HIGHWAY OF LIGHT' that leads to the great beyond.
dreams_of_a_butterfly A beautiful watercolor, the sun, a bright shining light made from fairy dust.
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by Markus Zusak (Goodreads Author)
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