Quotes About Breeze

The clouds above us join and separate, The breeze in the courtyard leaves and returns. Life is like that, so why not relax? Who can stop us from celebrating?

the breeze would draw a violin bow across the branches of a tree and I would again hear her lullaby. I would listen to the chime of coins being counted, and I would imagine her laughter. Her voice was caught in the shell of my ear, as if it were the ocean.

When an early autumn walks the land and chills the breeze and touches with her hand the summer trees….' That's poetry. And 'Like painted kites the days and nights went flying by. The world was new beneath a blue umbrella sky.

Beyond the terrace, a light breeze stirred the reeds at the edge of the pond. Looking out at this intimate vista, one could see the reeds and a stone lantern and the brightest of the evening's stars floating on the gloaming mirror of the pond. Then the breeze came again to crack the water's surface, and the picture was flooded.

There is nothing more delightful then an honest smile when having an awful day. To feel a cool breeze flowing over your face in the burning heat. To see the sun shining bright through the pouring rain and to have a friend who tells you that nothing from any of them is more then you to be your friend

Be the sky above you, blue soft be the road below you, affection be the breeze around you, I pray all the happiness surrounds you.

The breeze has awakened the earth, the sun gave brightness to the earth. Birds gave melodious music to the earth, then its the time to wish my sweet friend.

I thought of women in other places, streets and boulevards in major cities, wind blowing, a woman's skirt lifting in the breeze, the way the wind tenses the skirt, giving shape to the legs, making the skirt dip between the legs, revealing knees and thighs. Were these my father's thoughts or mine?

There was a grand piano, too, and Charles was playing, a glass of whiskey on the seat beside him. He was a little drunk; the Chopin was slurred and fluid, the notes melting sleepily into one another. A breeze stirred the heavy, moth-eaten velvet curtains, ruffling his hair.

That was a cozy night, a happy night; lamps lit, sparkle of glasses, rain falling heavy on the roof. Outside, the treetops tumbled and tossed, with a foamy whoosh like club soda bubbling up in the glass. The windows were open and a damp cool breeze swirled through the curtains, bewitchingly wild and sweet.

It was a gorgeous end-of-summer-just-starting-to-befall day. The trees swayed in the breeze. The sky was the color of cornflowers.

Contempla la bellezza nelle cose semplici: il sole che sorge da quell'immensa, scintillante distesa d'acqua che è il mare; sorge ogni giorno in modo nuovo, come fosse la prima volta. <> dice nel suo cuore, perchè sente la fresca brezza sulla nuca. Ma più volte sente l'inutilità di tutto ciò, perchè davanti a lui si stende un silenzio spaventoso, una vastità, dalla lunghezza e larghezza e profondità incommensurabili. Il nulla

She could stay invisible forever. She didn't completely understand her power, but she was beginning to understand who she was. Goddess , she thought, and her molecules formed a smile before she rode the breeze with arc-shaped leaps, like a dolphin, up and down toward home.

There was nothing demure about the air off the ocean.

Though day, the crickets called in the grass; my mother's singing rose from the camp. I lifted my arms; I could not help it. The breeze itself was warm; the islands soft with moss; the loons calling melancholy in forgotten bays; and Life in all its operations seemed unspeakably generous.

The air is all softness.

Planning your own coming-of-age experience may wither you prematurely, but just think of it this way: If you can get through this, childbirth should be a breeze.

The breeze was too sweet, and the sun too warm for a thought like that to be spoken.

But the joy I was experiencing was calm, the lightest breeze did not undulate the quiet waters upon which my little boat was floating and no cloud darkened my blue heaven.

The breeze smelled like the breath of an old man with bad teeth.

Sweet freedom whispered in my ear, you're a butterfly, and butterflies are free to fly, fly away, high-away, bye-bye.

A cry drifted along Walnut Street, more mournful than any tears. It rode a puff of breeze into the bedroom where Mark lay, holding himself awake. Bark! Bark! Bark! A-wooooo-ooo-ooo! Bark! Bark! Awooo! Mark popped up like a jack-in-the-box. The cry came again, thin and clear. It sounded exactly like, "Mark, Mark Mark. I need yoooo-ooo-oou!" Surely he was imagining things.

ugly, jagged scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his hairline just above his ear. He was glad he had it. A lifelong reminder of that awful day thirteen years ago and this treacherous cavern. He'd grown up fast. A breeze coming down across the

Vivo en el camino de Jellicoe, donde los árboles forman toldos de agradable brisa y puedes trepar y subir a el.