Quotes
Quotes about Wind
The twilight is sad and cloudy, The wind blows wild and free, And like the wings of sea-birds Flash the white caps of the sea.
Who has a book of all that monarchs do, He's more secure to keep it shut than shown; For vice repeated is like the wand'ring wind, Blows dust in others' eye, to spread itself; And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear To stop the air would hurt them.
Cold blows the wind against the hill, And cold upon the plain; I sit me by the bank, until The violets come again.
Winds wanders, and dews drip earthward; Rains fall, suns rise and set; Earth whirls, and all but to prosper A poor little violet.
And the violet lay dead while the odour flew On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue.
Better keep yourself clean and bright. You are the window through which you must see the world.
The mortal race is far too weak not to grow dizzy on unwonted brights. [Ger., Das sterbliche Geschlecht ist viel zu schwach In ungewohnter Hohe nicht zu schwindeln.]
Whether you wind up with a nest egg or a goose egg depends on the kind of chick you married
Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces up, snow is exhilarating; there is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.
A boy's will is the wind's will.
The hushed winds wail with feeble moan Like infant charity.
Blow, Boreas, foe to human kind! Blow, blustering, freezing, piercing wind! Blow, that thy force I may rehearse, While all my thoughts congeal to verse!
In measure, when it shooteth forth, thou wilt debate with it: he stayeth his rough wind in the day of the east wind.
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great; thou art clothed with honour and majesty. Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretches out the heavens like a curtain: Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind: Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire: Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Pass silently from men as thou dost pass.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves, Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives; Over and over To the lowly clover He has lisped the same love (and forgotten it, too). He will be lisping and pledging to you.
The wind's in the east. . . . I am always conscious of an uncomfortable sensation now and then when the wind is blowing in the east.
The winds that never moderation knew, Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew; Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge Their straighten'd lungs or conscious of their charge.
The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut out in the awful storm!
The wind, the wandering wind Of the golden summer eyes-- Whence is the thrilling magic Of its tunes amongst the leaves? Oh, is it from the waters, Or from the long, tall grass? Or is it from the hollow rocks Through which its breathings pass?
A litle wind kindles; much puts out the fire. [A little wind kindles; much puts out the fire.]
To a crazy ship all winds are contrary.
