Quotes About Wind

Water purling between the rocks, weed under the surface like green hair in the wind.

Home at that moment was a starless night, a steady wind, not a human to be seen.

Nature with equal mind sees all her sons at play sees man control the wind the wind sweep man away.

What mighty battles have I seen and heard waged between the trees and the west wind - an Iliad fought in the fields of air.

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

The mind can go in a thousand directions, but on this beautiful path, I walk in peace. With each step, the wind blows. With each step, a flower blooms.

The wind in the grain is the caress to the spouse; it is the hand of peace stroking her hair.

Their peace and their war Are like wind and storm. War grows from their peace.

Grace will meet you in the valley, and her song will carry you home on the wind to another sky filled with ethereal beauty unfolding and love everlasting.

To live on the land we must learn from the ocean, to be true as the tide and free as the wind swell.

Take a break to listen to the song of the wind, talk to the whispering trees, feel the love of flowers, dance with the dancing leaves, and enjoy the tranquility and serenity of nature.

I am the waves of the ocean, and I am always in love with the floating white clouds. I sing along with the wind and dance along with your thoughts and imaginations.

With the wind of love, let your heart dance like a flower.

Let us be the wind of love that touches every heart and blows away all of the misery and sadness.

For me, poetry is an impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.

No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.

The wind is the moon's imagination wandering.

Poetry is a theorem of a yellow-silk handkerchief knotted with riddles, sealed in a balloon tied to the tail of a kite flying in a white wind against a blue sky in spring.

What is more beautiful than a sea of water with a number of white-winged boats skirting its surface? Poetry and beauty contesting with the wind and the waves!

Darkness moves like a pack of wild dogs.The wind moves like a wounded animal.The ground must be full of teeth by now.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.

Sometimes the beauty is easy. Sometimes you don't have to try at all. Sometimes you can hear the wind blow in a handshake. Sometimes there's poetry written right on the bathroom wall.

Our nation is well equipped to make the transition. We have an abundance of natural resources like wind, natural gas, solar and geothermal.

But the wind always swept my words away like cloud shadows, as if it mattered more that I said them, than who heard them.