Quotes About Wind

The night was wide, and furnished scant With but a single star, That often as a cloud it met Blew out itself for fear. The wind pursued the little bush

Like Brooms of Steel Like Brooms of Steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street - The House was hooked The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of Heat - Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample - plodding Steed The Apple in the Cellar snug Was all the one that played.

Happiness, in the land of Deals, is measured on a sliding scale. What makes you happy? A long white silent car with smoked-glass windows, with a chauffeur and a stocked bar and two beautiful objects of desire in the back seat? An apartment in a nice part of town? A kinder lover? A place to stand that's out of the wind? A brief cessation of pain? It depends on what you have at the moment I ask that question, and what you don't have. Wait a little, just a little. The scale will slide again.

God is our pilot now, and we'll go wherever his breath blows us.

The Brill brothers fled to the cockpit, trying to simultaneously bow, look at their feet, not think anything dangerous, and above all, not pass wind.

For making a good voyage a pilot and wind are necessary: and for happiness, reason and art.

There was an iron-gray sky above a black tumbling sea; and the rain, driven by a mad wind, smote the face like a blow from a passionate hand.

A people without history is like wind on the buffalo grass.

Minutes past midnight the group left Pardis to be mugged by the wind, which came at them down the street like a gang of thieves.

Collaboration is the essence of life. The wind, bees and flowers work together, to spread the pollen.

Gigantesca luna y un viento de las montañas, profundo, acompaño la comprensión del momento: que todo en esta vida son letras.

Lo sai perchè su di te soffia il ghibli? Perchè tu sei il deserto. Il vento fa scomparire le orme appena stampate sul tuo corpo. Non credere che queste mie parole siano dettate da rancore, gelosia o altro. Nascono solo dal bene che ti ho voluto. Ti auguro non che tu possa trovare la felicità, ma che nel tuo deserto possa accadere il miracolo di un'oasi. Addio, Laura

With the sound of gusting wind in the branches of the language trees of Babel, the words gave way like leaves, and every reader glimpsed another reality hidden in the foilage.

There were two more cover versions. "One, believe it or not, is a noise-core reinterpretation of 'Candle in the Wind'." "By Elton John?" "By Elton John and Bernie Taupin." "What is noise-core?" said Nevada. "You don't want to know." "Is it noisy and hardcore?" "Exactly right.

If you listen to the wind very carefully, you'll be able to hear me whisper my love for you.

Leafless tree branches swayed in that wind, clawing at the sides of the stone dorm like fingernails.

You have never slept until you have been rocked to sleep by a willow tree, the whole think creaking as the wind pushes it back and forth. There was something about being up high, up in the green and the breeze, something safe about it.

We've got the wind at our back right now. Americans are waking up to the realities of their previous choices. We must keep America moving back to preeminence because our values and conservative ideas are the world's greatest hope.

Grover was sniffing the wind, looking nervous. He fished out his acorns and threw them into the sand, then played his pipes. They rearranged themselves in a pattern that made no sense to me, but Grover looked concerned. "That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." "Which one is me?" I asked. "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested. "Oh, shut up.

I had never realized before just how tiring and dehydrating long exposure to the wind can be, but this made me feel closer to nature.

Rays of evening sunshine glinted across the wood rails of the porch, hints of a thunderstorm flickering along the fog over the ridges. A sudden wind whipped through the trees, sending dried leaves to the ground. The sky was at war, Mother Nature caught between the chill of the dead and the wicked heat of the devil as he lingered in the foothills

All at once she could hear the sullen patter of the rain and sense the sigh of the wind behind it. She remembered the sound, because it had rained like that the day Mom was buried, the day they lowered her into that little rectangle of darkness.

Thomas More: Will, I'd trust you with my life. But not your principles. You see, we speak of being anchored to our principles. But if the weather turns nasty you up with an anchor and let it down where there's less wind, and the fishing's better. And "Look," we say, "look, I'm anchored! To my principles!

On a windswept hill by a billowing sea, my destiny sits and waits for me.