Quotes About Wind

Que el destino nos escuentre siempre fuertes y dignos! Debemos amar la felicidad como amamos el canto fugitivo del viento, como amamos los colores del atardecer que se va a extinguir. Porque los vientos renacen y cantan de nuevo...

Qué el destino nos encuentre siempre fuertes y dignos! Debemos amar la felicidad como amamos el canto fugitivo del viento, como amamos los colores del atardecer que se va a extinguir. Porque los vientos renacen y cantan de nuevo...

You don't know me from the wind you never will, you never did I'm the little jew who wrote the Bible. I've seen the nations rise and fall I've heard their stories, heard them all but love's the only engine of survival.

No juice to be hopeless, no heart to be sad. I tried in the wind, tried in the sand.

The season of ships is here,The west wind and the swallows;Flowers in the fields appear,And the ocean of hills and hollowsHas calmed its waves and is clear.Free that anchor and chain!Set your full canvas flying,O men in the harbor lane:It is I, Priapus, crying.Sail out on your trades again!

The train's conductor, J. F. Gamble, flung himself into the cab, his uniform soaked and dripping, to report the worst: one of the hundred-ton boxcars at the rear of the train had been toppled by the wind and waves, automatically locking the air brakes on the entire chain.

Who is the lonely Traveller Racing the moonlight to my door? Racing his troika over the steppe Pacing his steeds with the wind in the forest. The North wind that harries The South wind that tarries Who the lone Traveller come to my door? — Lonely no more." Siberian song - Trans-Baikal region

It took a great deal of energy to be a human being, and the more the wind blew and the sun moved southwest, the less energy Tayo had.

Indian Song: Survival We went north to escape winter climbing pale cliffs we paused to sleep at the river. Cold water river cold from the north I sink my body in the shallow sink into sand and cold river water. …Mountain forest wind travels east and I answer: taste me, I am the wind touch me, I am the lean gray deer running on the edge of the rainbow.

As the days grow short, some faces grow long. But not mine. Every autumn, when the wind turns cold and darkness comes early, I am suddenly happy. It's time to start making soup again.

His thirst was as tall as he was and more the man. It walked alone and was the only real life in the wind-weary February night.

Dew will never appear while there is either heat or wind. The temperature must fall, the wind cease, and the air come to a point of coolness and rest—absolute rest—before the invisible particles of moisture will become dew to dampen any plant or flower. And the grace of God does not come forth to bring rest and renewal to our soul until we completely reach the point of stillness before Him.

the leaves were dancing here and there, as though

The opposition Prevailingwind Party led by Alfredo Traficcone

Everything was frozen up and silent that morning. Even the wind was silent, but not really dead. It waved about a little and beat its tail gently against the hard sky. There was no sun yet. The sky was empty. It was all frozen up, like a sheet hanging out in the frost.

Brun led them well beyond the spoor of cave lions before he stopped and studied the landscape. Across the river, as far as he could see, the prairie stretched out in low rolling hills into a flat green expanse in the distance. His view was unobstructed. The few stunted trees, distorted by the constant wind into caricatures of arrested motion, merely put the open country in perspective and emphasized the emptiness.

The wind blew and it didn't seem important, but tomorrow when the wind blew, it would be important. All the familiar things were getting different meanings.

A wind picked up, rattling the windows, and the candle flames suddenly shifted, dancing along the border between turbulence and order.

I was sitting in a taxi, wondering if I had overdressed for the evening, when I looked out the window and saw Mom rooting through a Dumpster. It was just after dark. A blustery March wind whipped the steam coming out of the manholes, and people hurried along the sidewalks with their collars turned up. I was stuck in traffic two blocks from the party where I was heading

It is the weather, not work, that wears out sails.

Conventional turbines only work up to 200 feet, but capturing a small fraction of the global wind energy at higher altitudes could be sufficient to supply the current energy needs of the globe.

As flames do work and wind when they ascend, So did I weave myself into the sense.

Sailing is a big outlet for me.

If I'm outside, I'm really happy. I don't care whether it's blowing a gale, I just love being outdoors.