Quotes About Wind

studying castelles in the blowne

They are not to be thought away. Time has branded them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible seeing that they never were? Or was that only possible which came to pass? Weave, weaver of the wind.

A gust of wind blows in through the porch with the sound of shaken leaves. The flame of the lamp leaps.

Here's the strange thing about death. At a certain age it's always with you, lurking in the shade, pulling at your ankles, whispering in your ear when you pass a crypt. But it doesn't get your real attention until you find yourself alone at home and the wind swells inside the rooms and stresses the joists and lets you know what silence and solitude are all about.

The words of his Zen Buddhist flight instructor echoed in his head: You are a leaf on the wind.

Just for fun I flew in huge banking arcs, taking deep breaths, enjoying the feel of my newly weightless hair. The stylist had called it "wind tossed." If only she knew.

the September wind wafting the few trees West End still had lining the block to the south. I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder

There's a Navajo saying, "Even the still wind has a voice." In the quiet, confessing hotel room, I listen.

Still as they run they look behind,They hear a voice in every wind,And snatch a fearful joy.

I list not trust the air With utterance of our pretence therein, For fear the privy whisp'ring of the wind Convey our words amongst unfriendly ears, That lie too open to advantages.

But you can't navigate a raft," he added. "It goes sideways and backward and round as the wind takes it.

It was Virgil's country and there was a wind that seemed to rise from the fields and descend upon us in a long Virgilian sigh, for the land that has inspired sentiment in the poet ultimately receives its sentiment from him.

In the presence of immortality—the endlessly churning sea, the plowed fields of the sky, the loose gypsy wind—the rest of her life feels absurdly, ridiculously mortal and transient. Transient as money, fragile as love. As ethereal and ready to pop as these balloons that are dancing in the wind.

The harsh wind of the Egyptian desert is even worse than the harsh wind of the Egyptian pharaoh.

I'm a one-hundred-percent, made-in-Florida, dope-smugglin', time-sharin', spring-breakin', log-flumin', double-occupancy discount vacation. I'm a tall glass of orange juice and a day without sunshine. I'm the wind in your sails, the sun on your burn and the moon over Miami. I am the native.

Culoarea este mângâierea ochiului, muzica surzilor - un cuvânt în întuneric. Deoarece am ascultat, vreme de zeci de mii de ani, spusele sufletelor ca pe un vuiet de vânt trecând din carte în carte È™i din lucru în lucru, am s? v? spun c? atingerea mea seam?n? cu atingerea îngerilor.

The blowing winds are but our servants When we hoist a sail.

Running was the way he dreamed. Having never been in control of his life, his idea of freedom was simply to break free. He dreamed of being at the mercy of the wind, carried aloft and blown here and there, a life of true randomness instead of always being part of someone else's purpose.

Somebody's heart says, 'I am the wind from the cold snow of the mountain, and you are the tiger whose roar will freeze in your own ears before you tremble and die in the iron knife of my winter eyes'?

Nature....she will hang the night stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send word the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole.

The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.

And when wind and winter harden All the loveless land, It will whisper of the garden, You will understand.

The wind surged in a roar, then died down like it was pondering some heavy shit, then started back up like before.

The flames sawed in the wind and the embers paled and deepened and paled and deepened like the bloodbeat of some living thing eviscerate upon the ground before them and they watched the fire which does contain within it something of men themselves inasmuch as they are less without it and are divided from their origins and are exiles. For each fire is all fires, and the first fire and the last ever to be.