Quotes About Wind

What are you grinning at?' Nal muttered. As if in response, the gull spread its wings and opened its shadow over the miniature ruins of the castle - too huge, Nal thought, and vaguely humanoid in shape - and then it flew off, laboring heavily against the wind. In the soft moonlight this created the disturbing illusion that the bird had hitched itself to Nal's shadow and was pulling his darkness from him.

The whistle dropped from the branch's spindly fingers like a black cocoon, a pendulum of secret music; the wind pushed sound soundlessly around.

Strong winds buffet the sea oats and tall dune grasses, tossing sand and seabirds where it will, winding my sister's golden hair into sunlit spirals of silk until it becomes the only good memory I have of her -- the only memory I allowed myself to keep.

Time was the invention of men who would confine the ocean and bottle the wind. Eternity is too short to fulfill the promise of love my sould holds for you.

Time was the invention of men who would confine the ocean and bottle the wind

Writing is like hunting. There are brutally cold afternoons with nothing in sight, only the wind and your breaking heart. Then the moment when you bag something big. The entire process is beyond intoxicating.

There were such sounds as are not heard in daylight—moon sounds and cloud sounds and sounds of dark wind; branches talked and other small voices answered in anxious undertones.

My room was in one of those turrets and at night I could hear the sea and the faint rustle of eelgrass in the soft wind. The weather was perfect that summer. No storms. Blue skies and just the right amount of wind every day. The sailors were in heaven.

Already she was climbing the wind, already was not and didn't know it . . .

In faith I hear a whisper in the air as it sweeps: secrets sparkling from the waters unto the shore; but the wind does not stir upon the deeps, the poets' mandolas play no more.

Rumi: "Dancing is not rising to your feet painlessly like a whirl of dust blown about by the wind. Dancing is when you rise above both worlds, tearing your heart to pieces and giving up your soul.

What is a storm? Sadie thought. It is water, and it is light, and it is wind. And it is how these three elements act on the surfaces they touch. How hard can that be?

struggling with frozen expressions and tightly compressed lips. Everyone wore black padded jackets in a kind of mournful uniformity, and battled the same bladed wind that swept across the open spaces, their fists jammed into pockets, their heads resolutely down.

The duende....Where is the duende? Through the empty archway a wind of the spirit enters, blowing insistently over the heads of the dead, in search of new landscapes and unknown accents: a wind with the odour of a child's saliva, crushed grass, and medusa's veil, announcing the endless baptism of freshly created things.

Lilith: Oh, but your heart grows cold. A north wind blows and carries down the distant... Rose? The Doctor: Oooh, big mistake! Because that name keeps me fighting!

He must have been like a thin brown skeleton autumn leaf dancing eternally before the wind; but in truth it was he that was the wind.

I remember! This documentary said that after a dog dies, his soul is released into the world around us. His soul is released to run in the wild, run through the fields, enjoy the earth, the wind, the rivers, the rain, the sun, the… It's okay… They will see.

Biking is about rhythm and flow. It's the wind in you face and the challenge of hammering up along hill. It's the reward at the top and the thrill of a high-speed descent. Biking lets you come alive in both body and spirit. After awhile the bike disappears beneath you and you feel as if you're suspended in midair.

If you hold on to the handle, she said, it's easier to maintain the illusion of control. But it's more fun if you just let the wind carry you.

Standing on the roof at night, beside the golden ship I look across the city and I dream a wild trip. The waves are high, the wind is strong, the moon is white and full. I smell the salt upon the sea, a strong magnetic pull. I shout into the endless dark, awaiting the reply: 'Away! Away' It says: 'Away! Now spread your wings and fly.

A woman needs fatalism more than a man. A woman's role in life is to listen, and when I listen I never hear anything but the howl of the wind. I prefer the sound of my own voice.

The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.

So with stun-sail piled on stun-sail, we sailed along

Hand in hand, ship and breeze blew on; but the breeze came faster than the ship, and soon the Pequod began to rock.