Quotes About Wind

I walked outside, into the welter of the stinging water, the gusting pockets of wind.

And for the Keeper, waves splashed, trees swayed, stones protected knowledge, and wind waited for orders.

Remind me again why we listened to a talking snowman? We're in deep snow, the wind is howling, we have no shelter, and I'm sledding up a mountain based on a hunch.

How warm the day can be when the wind is at your back.

No sunrises that stop you dead with their unspeakable beuaty, either, he thought. No whales breaching only yards away from the ship, showering your awestruck self with a cold ocean rain. No songs and whiskey belowdecks at night while the wind plucks at the ship's rigging and the ice beats against her hull.

A weird sequence of weather events had left a thin skin of ice around every tree and branch and twig. Each time the wind blew, a splintery groan issued from all directions at once.

The twins had brought along Buck Rogers ray guns, but the wind turned their shots and death throes into pantomime.

The sound of the wind against the sides of the house is exactly like the sound of wolf fur against cardboard.

Picture yourself standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind is whipping your hair. The sun is setting. You long, body and soul, for one thing. One person. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn. Who's there? I remembered a voice. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.

Picture yourself standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind is whipping in your hair. The sun is setting. You long, body and soul, for one thing. One person. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn. Who's there?

The wind blew, rippling the water, making everything waver as if none of it were real.

He quotes an ancient Vedic hymn: " 'May your eye go to the Sun, To the wind your soul … Or go to the waters if it suits thee there,' " Finch finishes." "As he (the sheriff) talks, I lie back against the ground, the blanket wrapped around me, and say to the sky, "May your eye go to the Sun, To the wind your soul.… You are all the colors in one, at full brightness.

As he talks, I lie back against the ground, the blanket wrapped around me, and say to the sky, "May your eye go to the Sun, To the wind your soul, You are all the colors in one, at full brightness.

May your eye go to the Sun To the wind your soul You are all the colours in one, at full brightness.

A soft wind from the west blew in through the open window, and Haluin lifted his head and sniffed the air like a high-bred horse scenting his stable. "How good it is," he said, "to be going home!

The whole of Paris was lit up. The tiny dancing flames had bespangled the sea of darkness from end to end of the horizon, and now, like millions of stars, they burned with a steady light in the serene summer night. There was no breath of wind to make them flicker as they hung there in space. They made the unseen city seem as vast as a firmament, reaching out into infinity.

He had the hypocrisy to represent a mourner: and previous to following with Hareton, he lifted the unfortunate child on to the table and muttered, with peculiar gusto, 'Now, my bonny lad, you are mine! And we'll see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!

The wind I hear it sighing, with autumn's saddest sound; withered leaves all thick are lying, as spring-flowers on the ground. This dark night has won me to wander far away; old feelings gather fast upon me.

I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

Bana göre ise en büyük mutluluk, bat? rüzgar? eserken, gökte de pamuk gibi beyaz bulutlar uçuÅŸurken, h???r h???r eden yemyeÅŸil bir aÄŸaçta sallanmakt?r.

In all the lonely landscape round I see no sight and hear no sound Except the wind that far away Comes sighing over the heathy sea

They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars, Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless grass, No eye could find the place; But God on his repealless list Can summon every face

My dying tutor told me that he would like to live till I had been a poet, but Death was much of Mob as I could master-then-And when far afterward-a sudden light on Orchards, or a new fashion in the wind troubled my attention- I felt a palsy, here- the Verses just relieve- (174)

The wind does, working like a hand Whose fingers brush the sky