Epilogue The soft blue and white clouds of York III shone brightly out of the viewscreen, lighting the Enterprise's bridge like sunlight through a large bay window.

He looked up into the utter clarity of the Afghan sky, and saw something he had never seen before; a single cloud . . . a single, brilliantly white line, shining with the reflected sun, being drawn as if with a piece of chalk.

As clouds glow after sunset, tonight the clouds shone livid white at their; western edges.

ON A CHILLY NIGHT IN PARIS, while the streets are full of weekend traffic and low clouds shine yellow from the city down below, Jean-Bertrand Aristide takes his place behind a lectern and absorbs the applause of thousands as though, like thunder, it is a talisman of change.

The cloud below them shone with the peculiar brilliance of an alpine snowfield.

For rainbows, clouds and stars shine through his eyes.

Our life's sun is slowly going Down the hill of might; Will our clouds shine golden-glowing On the slope of night?

Over head the clouds shone in the reflected light of dawn, shifting rapidly in color, changing to a brilliant gold and at last the sun broke the horizon, casting long shadows across the snow covered valley.

Galactic clouds of lights shone from its myriad windows.

The clouds above them shone like opals, and far, far below was the green world, with shining rivers, and houses that looked no larger than walnuts.