Quotes About Wind

Those horses must have been Spanish jennets, born of mares mated with a zephyr; for they went as swiftly as the wind, and the moon, which had risen at our departure to give us light, rolled through the sky like a wheel detached from its carriage...

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.

Somewherein desolate wind-swept space In Twilight-landin No-mans land Two hurrying Shapes met face to face, And bade each other stand.

We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed The white of their leaves, the amber grain Shrunk in the wind -- and the lightning now Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain.

Whilst I stood, a solemn wind began to blow—the most mournful that ear ever heard. Mournful! That is saying nothing. It was a wind that had swept the fields of mortality for a thousand centuries. Many times since, upon a summer day, when the sun is at its hottest, I have heard the same wind arising and uttering the same hollow, solemn, Memnonian, but saintly swell: it is in this world the one sole audible symbol of eternity.

But our love... It's like the wind. I can't see it, but I can feel it. - A Walk to Remember

Can you forgive me? In a world that I seldom understand, there are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one's cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore. You, my darling, are the wind that I did not anticipate, the wind that has gusted more strongly than I ever imagined possible. You are my destiny.

Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars?

THE BOY A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

To Mr. Jones, she said, imagine you're looking up at a blue sky, and imagine a tiny airplane skywriting the letter Z. Then let the wind erase the letter. Then imagine the plane writing the letter Y. Let the wind erase it. Then the letter X. Erase it. Then the letter W. Let the wind erase it.

Life insurance pays off triple if you die on a business trip. I prayed for wind shear effect. I prayed for pelicans sucked into the turbines and loose bolts and ice on the wings. On takeoff, as the plane pushed down the runway and the flaps tilted up, with our seats in their full upright position and our tray tables stowed and all personal carry-on baggage in the overhead compartment, as the end of the runway ran up to meet us with our smoking materials extinguished, I prayed for a crash.

because the rubber, too, is bulletproof. And so relentless is the wind that it rakes the street, pushing along this burden of crippled vermin, trundling this tide of suffering always in the wake of the Town Car as it reaches Spaulding Square. Fissures of lightning

Listen to no one's advice except that of the wind in the trees. That can recount the whole history of mankind...

The wind was not invisible. It had a texture, as though it carried a weight of dust, the motes steadily gumming up her eyes and sealing her nose, finding its way into her underwear and up into her body by those routes too.

What marked this place as another Dominion was the people in the streets outside, some human, many not, all retreating from the wind or the commotions it carried.

The winds mourn and whine was wiser than any psalm, prayer, or profession of love he'd ever heard. But

way, is music. I hear that longing in countless pieces: in Barber's Adagio, in the "In Paradisum" from the Fauré Requiem, in the "Liebestod" from Tristan and Isolde; in Max Steiner's film scores, in folk songs like "Blow the Wind Southerly" and "Shenandoah

rare frost that morning, the wind howling

When he heard autumn leaves skuttling in the wind, he remembered that chuckle.

Outside, the dark brushed the city and the wind unleashed the snow

So Aeneas pleaded, his face streaming tears. Three times he tried to fling his arms around his neck, three times he embraced--nothing...the phantom sifting through his fingers, light as wind, quick as a dream in flight.

Haec ubi dicta, petunt portus, et vela secundi intendunt Zephyri; fertur cita gurgite classis, et tandem laeti notae advertuntur harenae.

So fine was the morning except for a streak of wind here and there that the sea and sky looked all one fabric, as if sails were stuck high up in the sky, or the clouds had dropped down into the sea.

June was white. I see the fields white with daisies, and white with dresses; and tennis courts marked with white. Then there was wind and violent thunder. There was a star riding through clouds one night, and I said to the star, "Consume me. That was at midsummer.