Quotes about wind

Wolf Star shines on wintry highGazing northward by and by.Ice and snow on shorelines lieWind and spirits haunt the sky.

I don't think it's too hippie to want to clean up the planet so you don't wind up dying of some kind of cancer when you're 45 years old. It enrages me that these big cancer-research organizations can't be bothered to man the front lines of environmental protest.

There is a muscular energy in sunlight corresponding to the spiritual energy of wind.

Incredibly, oil and gas companies don't have to pay certain environmental costs that amount to small change to them, while an offshore wind project start-up is faced with fees that could mean the difference between building a wind farm and packing up and going home.

The potential in many environmental issues is that if you undertake corrective action without appropriate understanding of the problem, then you wind up doing more harm than good.

What we need to do is always lean into the future when the world changes around you and when it changes against you - what used to be a tail wind is now a head wind - you have to lean into that and figure out what to do because complaining isn't a strategy.

Once we agree on the future, the present will be much easier. A captain who does not know where he wants to sail, there is no wind on Earth that will bring him there. We have first to decide where we want to go, where we want to sail.

I watch political shows for a number of weeks in a row, and all I see are guys arguing with each other over issues I have no idea about. My brother, he loves war-torn places. My dad would always read the paper and tell me I should watch CNN, but I usually wind up watching 'Breaking Bad.'

I had been feeling a little rum. I didn't think it was anything serious because years ago I felt a lump and it was benign. I assumed this would be too. It kind of takes the wind out of your sails, and I don't know what the future holds, if anything.

You are the ocean everything else is just waves and wind.

I will be fine as far as the wind will bring me the memories i have spent with you

Trends are about as fickle as the direction of the wind as are the legacies of those who flow with them.

Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind.

When men sow the wind it is rational to expect that they will reap the whirlwind.

Wind and other clean, renewable energy will help end our reliance on fossil fuels and combat the severe threat that climate change poses to humans and wildlife alike.

Dylan captured what was on a million minds and turned it into poetry. With 'Blowin' in the Wind' or 'The Times They Are A-Changin',' he set a whole new standard.

In terms of romantic films, all-time romantic films, I really like 'Gone With the Wind.' And I realize I sound so cliched saying that, but there's something so absolutely romantic about it.

'Bombay Velvet' is my most romantic film, it's my 'Titanic' or 'Gone With The Wind.'

At home, I love reaching out into that absolute silence, when you can hear the owl or the wind.

Even though I love solar and love wind, like most people do, I like the renewable sources, they alone are not going to get America energy independent.

Yes, you can lose somebody overnight, yes, your whole life can be turned upside down. Life is short. It can come and go like a feather in the wind.

I have always loved a hard-faced girl. I get that Alison Goldfrapp isn't easy, and I like her belligerence. She's deeply sexy and controlled, like a Strict Machine, and it seems to wind the b'jesus out of the women I know. On the outside, I watch and smile and will her on like a twisted silent maiden aunt in the dark corner.

Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.

Swimming is probably the ultimate of burnout sports. It's ironic because millions of people who swim as their regular exercise love the meditation aspect of it you don't wind up with any orthopedic injuries. But when you swim at a world class level for hours and hours - the loneness of the long distance runner.

I don't believe in angels, no. But I do have a wee parking angel. It's on my dashboard and you wind it up. The wings flap and it's supposed to give you a parking space. It's worked so far.

A light wind swept over the corn, and all nature laughed in the sunshine.

And finally Winter, with its bitin', whinin' wind, and all the land will be mantled with snow.

All the lessons are in nature. You look at the way rocks are formed - the wind and the water hitting them, shaping them, making them what they are. Things take time, you know?

My boy, one small breeze doesn't make a wind storm.

O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

Solar power, wind power, the way forward is to collaborate with nature - it's the only way we are going to get to the other end of the 21st century.

I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things... I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against the wind.

In a broader sense, the rhythms of nature, large and small - the sounds of wind and water, the sounds of birds and insects - must inevitably find their analogues in music.

Most people never run far enough on their first wind to find out they've got a second.

If you don't know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else.

It is the set of the sails, not the direction of the wind that determines which way we will go.

You don't want your jewelry to make you look fat. A lot of what's out there now does - you just wind up looking like a Christmas tree.

From a very young age, I liked to take apart things. All of my Christmas gifts would wind up in a million pieces. I actually recall taking apart my dad's lawnmower three times to understand how combustible engines work.

Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious.

A gust of wind rattles the window, and I look out. Leaves are whooshing all over the place, flying past horizontally as if they have engines of their own.

But you can't plead with autumn. No. The midnight wind stalked through the woods, hooted to frighten you, swept everything away for the approaching winter, whirled the leaves. ("The North")

You like the wind? There is no wind? Start running! Create your own wind!

Afterwards, I will have to tie the trees to bamboo poles so the wind will not determine their shape. A tree cannot be given form by the vagaries of the wind.

A strong wind was blowing and it felt really very cold and seemed so unfamiliar and bizarre. But the trees remembered me. They bowed gently in the breeze…and called me nearer, welcoming me.

I stroke the bleached bones of ancient trees felled long-ago by industry or cold desperation and wonder of another almost summer when two fell asleep beneath her arms, curling into each other like wind-swept branches on the edge of tomorrow ...

People usually seek to join a religious system in order to gain the eternal bliss and freedom of the soul. But belonging somewhere; anywhere is not freedom. Free is the wind. You need to become the wind, not wanting to know how and why, but only to experience this quality of freedom that leads to the original “religion”. There the soul is finally ONE and aligned with anything.

An ill wind that bloweth no man good - The blower of which blast is she.

Who walketh upon the wings of the wind.

Blow wind and crack your cheeks. Rage! Blow!

Sweet and low sweet and low Wind of the western sea Low low breathe and blow Wind of the western sea!

Oaths are but words, and words are but wind.

Words empty as the wind are best left unsaid.

I can't change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination.

Thought is the wind, knowledge the sail, and mankind the vessel.

Without craftsmanship, inspiration is a mere reed shaken in the wind.

Humor's always been the problem of my work, hasn't it? When working, I feel satisfied when I surprise myself. And when I surprise myself, I wind up laughing.

I love the feeling of the fresh air on my face and the wind blowing through my hair.

The softest thing I've ever heard are the wind chimes in my backyard. They are soft and cool and mellow.

Death can ride the wind,and he can also walk the streets,looking for those listed,or those he accidently meets.A touch or a whisper,the smell of his breath,it's what lets us know,he beckons that we're next.And hide he doth find,in a closet or a chest,because our days were numbered,'cause death doesn't jest.

You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of.

be the calm eye of the storm where nothing phases you, focus on your centre to remain balanced, let your life flow like a stream of wind

The plants and flowersI raised about my hutI now surrenderTo the willOf the wind

I listen to the sound of India's voices for the last time . Laughter ripples like water . A prayer is a single note held long . There is so much life here . And too much death.I feel a soft brezze caress my face and I look up. An orange ribbon is floating through the air . In India , it's easy to see the wind .

If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favorable.

Why do you chase the wind?

He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight for a few seconds. Hisbreaths tickle my ear, and I close my eyes, letting myself finally relax. Hesmells like wind and sweat and soap, like Tobias and like safety.

Having a clear faith, based on the creed of the church is often labeled today as fundamentalism. Whereas relativism, which is letting oneself be tossed and swept along by every wind of teaching, look like the only attitude acceptable to today's standards.

Samuel finally understood the sound of the wind after all these years: The winds were a chorus of the prairie’s ever-present heartaches.

just find your way, like a river settling into its bed, and the sigh of the wind over a lake, light but restful... content with the joy in the arc of an arm throwing a ball for a dog to fetch

.... just find your way, like a river settling into its bed, and the sigh of the wind over a lake, light but restful... content with the joy in the arc of an arm throwing a ball for a dog to fetch, the ease of the grassy slope stretching away, birds in the trees singing sweet high notes, flowers growing close in the ditch.

Music burst through him, perfect notes he hear rarely. Fire and ice, wind and calm, sky and earth, water and rock all fused together. Joley seemed as wild and turbulent s the sea, yet beneath her fiery passion, at the very core of her, she was as forceful and strong and as constant as the deepest ocean currents. Ilya seemed as calm as a windless sea, yet beneath the surface smoldered a volcano of such explosive magnitude, his power could easily sweep everything from his path. Together they compl

Wind blew snow crystals back and forth between the graves. The ancient pines creaked overhead.

You have to feel the bite of the wind to appreciate the warmth of a winter coat.

I've lived to see my longings die"I've lived to se my longings die:My dreams and I have grown apart;Now only sorrow haunts my eye,The wages of a bitter heart.Beneath the storms of hostile fate,My flowery wreath has faded fast;I live alone and sadly waitTo see when death will come at last.Just so, when the winds in winter moanAnd snow descends in frigid flakes,Upon a naked branch, alone,The final leaf of summer shakes!

Along with rising and falling water, winter is the province of wind. When the sea-breath and mountain-roar bend the hemlocks of these hills, the birds hang on as best they can.

I would give my lungs to the fish so that they may rise out of the water and feel the wind.

fingers of wind combed the lake into ridges—icy palm prints glistened wherever it rested

Here you are. Would you like some pickles?”“Pickles gives me the wind something awful.”“In that case—”“Oh, I wasn’t saying no,” Mistress Weatherwax said, taking two large pickled cucumbers.

Once lively peonies nowwind-weary, and ragged at the edges, hang their heavy crowns; rain on their backs,one final act, beforedetaching from the stemand falling down.

The sky's inclemency stirs up the angry winds;the watery clouds are soaking with ceaseless rain.The turbulent Vltava, swollen with rainy waves,Bursting, impetuous, breaks through its river banks.

Gods must be crazyFlowers must be daisyClouds must be hazyWinds must be lazyWhat else it could be…My heart must be in love lately…

The daemon wind died down, and the bloated, fungoid moon sank reddeningly in the west.

Just then, down through the last glimmer of twilight, stepping high and free, like a cloud, a moth, a ghost in the shape of a horse — came the Silver Stallion. Wild, beautiful, and free as the wind he came, from one kingdom to another, Thowra

Autumn colors remind us we are all one dancing in the wind.

They were the prisoners hidden in different cages, and yet they saw each other every day. He named her fire and she named him the wind, the day they both touched and embraced each other they burnt down everything that stood in their way.

Asleep she was a painting of a fire. Awake she was the fire itself

And all the winds go sighing, For sweet things dying

What is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

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.

The road to Manderley lay ahead. There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

Winter teetered on the verge of succumbing to the returning sun, but today the breeze still preferred the touch of snowflakes

~Seasons of Life~When the sunburn I blind,When the sky showers I cover,When the wind blows I blanket,When the death calls I undergo,When would I experience the nature?

...this beginning motion, this first time when a sail truly filled and the boat took life and knifed across the lake under perfect control, this was so beautiful it stopped my breath...

There’s always books. And the wind through trees.

When the north wind blew across the tar ponds, voices were carried away.

...my heart rides the wind and my thoughts sail away - to a land below the horizon where I know you hide from me...

In the wind that ruffles through the treesI can find thoughts of you whispering to me

If everything I possessed, vanished, suddenly,I'd be sorry.But I value things unpossessed.The wind, and trees, and sky and kind thoughts, much more.