Quotes About Air

It's no conspiracy [for the Hindu] to make me a refugee in the very country of my birth It's no conspiracy to poison the air I breathe and the space I live in It's certainly no conspiracy to cut me to pieces and then imagine an uncut Bharat.

He had written books of a lifetime, on the airs of vast rooms in vast buildings, and had it all fly out the vents.

Raw, gentle, and easy, it mizzled out of the high air, a special elixir, tasting of spells and stars and air, carrying a peppery dust in it, and moving like a rare light sherry on his tongue. Rain.

He liked to listen to the silence, he said, if silence could be listened to, for he went on, in that silence you could hear wildflower pollen sifting down the bee-fried air, by God, the bee-fried air! Listen! the waterfall of birdsong being those trees!

It flourished on the air softly in vapors of cobalt light, whispering and sighing.

They softly issued forth exhalations of air that smelled like ancient yellow beasts.

in our own hearts we trust for our salvation, in the men that surround us, in the sights that fill our eyes, in the sounds that fill our ears, and in the air that fill our lungs.

There is something going on in the sky like a decomposition, like a corruption of the air, which remains as still as ever. After all, mere clouds, which may or may not hold wind or rain. Strange that it should trouble me so. I feel as if all my sins had found me out.

To get a breath of fresh air. The expression sounded wonderfully odd, with its suggestion of sedentary desk life.

In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand still in red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished sprits. A haze rested on the low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing flatness. The air was dark above Gravesend, and farther back still seemed condensed into a mournful gloom, brooding motionless over the biggest, and the greatest, town on earth.

She had horses who were the blue air of the sky.

Her escape is my own. I tell her, yes. Yes. We ride out for breath over the distance. Night air approaches, the galloping other-life. No sound. No sound.

Allí, donde el aire cambia el color de las cosas; donde se ventila la vida como si fiera un murmullo; como si fuera un puro murmullo de la vida...

No, no era posible calcular la hondura del silencio que produjo aquel grito. Como si la tierra se hubiera vaciado de su aire. Ningún sonido; ni el del resuello, ni el del latir del corazón; como si se detuviera el mismo ruido de la conciencia.

Al recorrerse las nubes, el sol sacaba luz a las piedras, irisaba todo de colores, se bebía el agua de la tierra, jugaba con el aire dándole brillo a las hojas con que jugaba el aire.

Hay aire y sol, hay nubes. Allá arriba un cielo azul y detrás de él tal vez haya canciones; tal vez mejores voces… Hay esperanza, en suma. Hay esperanza para nosotros, contra nuestro pesar.

Morning, the room full of sun. I wheel to the window and watch the robins digging worms in Grandfather's lawn. The grass is blue-wet in the open, green-dry under the pines. The air is so crisp it gives me a brief, delusive sense of health and youth. Those I don't have, but I have learned not to scorn the substitutes: quiet, plenty of time, and a job to spend it on.

Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.

Poetry is a finikin thing of air That lives uncertainly and not for long Yet radiantly beyond much lustier blurs.

You want to cut down air pollution? Cut down the original source... Breathin'!

This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,This is the common air that bathes the globe.

wind is blowing. It may be a breeze that cools and comforts. It may be a gust

were the cribbers, Danny decided, those who took hold of some part of their stall while inhaling and swallowing deep drafts of air with a grunting sound.

Two large, soft traveling bags weighed down his shoulders by their straps. Holo adverts blossomed into life around him. He walked lightly, scanning the people waiting for the shuttle. Food smells came out of the fast eateries across from the gate. The air hummed with the noise of business.