Explore Quotes on Wind

In every grave on earth's green sward is a tiny seed of the resurrection life of Jesus Christ, and that seed cannot perish. It will germinate when the warm south wind of Christ's return brings back the spring-tide to this cold sin-cursed earth of ours; and then they that are in their graves, and we who shall lie down in ours, will feel in our mortal bodies the power of His resurrection, and will come forth to life immortal.

And she said 'Losing love is like a window in your heart,_x000D__x000D_Everybody sees you're blown apart,_x000D__x000D_Everybody feels the wind blow.'

So people have to decide. Do they want to have the security? Do they want to continue to plug the gap [in border security] that GAO has identified and recognize that there will be some costs to doing that? Or do we want to make sure that business isn't hampered and that people can move back and forth readily, and recognize that, if we don't put some barriers in place, we're going to wind up with dangerous people coming into the country?

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.

One time or another we all face adversity's chilling wind. One man flees from it, and like an unresisting kite falls to the ground. Another yields no retreating inch, and the wind that would destroy him lifts him as readily to the heights. We are not measured by the trials we meet, only by those we overcome.

Only in winter can you tell which trees are truly green. Only when the winds of adversity blow can you tell whether an individual or a country has steadfastness.

In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. Do not make yourself ill with overwhelm. There is a tendency to fall into being weakened by perseverating on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails.

If all our national holidays were observed on Wednesdays, we could wind up with nine-day weekends.

We saw men haying far off in the meadow, their heads waving like the grass which they cut. In the distance the wind seemed to bend all alike.

Your breath upon the wind shall surely lodge within some breast. Ask not whose breast it is. See only that the breath itself be pure.

Daffodils,_x000D__x000D_That come before the swallow dares, and take_x000D__x000D_The winds of March with beauty.

It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk on that long beach Everything was withdrawn as far as possible, indrawn: the tide far out, the ocean shrunken, seabirds in ones or twos. The rackety, icy, offshore wind numbed our faces on one side; disrupted the formation of a lone flight of Canada geese; and blew back the low, inaudible rollers in upright, steely mist.

Earth is dry to the centre,_x000D_But spring, a new comer,_x000D_A spring rich and strange,_x000D_Shall make the winds blow_x000D_Round and round,_x000D_Thro' and thro',_x000D_Here and there,_x000D_Till the air_x000D_And the ground_x000D_Shall be fill'd with life anew.

The fields are snowbound no longer;_x000D__x000D_There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green._x000D__x000D_The snow has been caught up into the sky-_x000D__x000D_So many white clouds-and the blue of the sky is cold._x000D__x000D_Now the sun walks in the forest,_x000D__x000D_He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;_x000D__x000D_They shiver, and wake from slumber._x000D__x000D_Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls._x000D__x000D_Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears...._x000D__x000D_A wind dances over the fields._x000D__x000D_Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,_x000D__x000D_Yet the little blue lakes tremble_x000D__x000D_And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.

Lilacs, False Blue, White, Purple,_x000D__x000D_Colour of lilac,_x000D__x000D_Your great puffs of flowers_x000D__x000D_Are everywhere in this my New England ..._x000D__x000D_Lilacs in dooryards_x000D__x000D_Holding quiet conversation with an early moon;_x000D__x000D_Lilacs watching a deserted house; ..._x000D__x000D_Lilacs, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom,_x000D__x000D_You are everywhere.

'Tis spring; come out to ramble_x000D__x000D_The hilly brakes around,_x000D__x000D_For under thorn and bramble_x000D__x000D_About the hollow ground_x000D__x000D_The primroses are found._x000D__x000D_And there's the windflower chilly_x000D__x000D_With all the winds at play,_x000D__x000D_And there's the Lenten lily_x000D__x000D_That has not long to stay_x000D__x000D_And dies on Easter day.

The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day.

O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down_x000D__x000D_Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn_x000D__x000D_Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,_x000D__x000D_Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!_x000D__x000D__x000D_The hills tell each other, and the listening_x000D__x000D_Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned_x000D__x000D_Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,_x000D__x000D_And let thy holy feet visit our clime._x000D__x000D__x000D_Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds_x000D__x000D_Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste_x000D__x000D_Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls_x000D__x000D_Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.

Come, I come! ye have called me long,_x000D__x000D_I come o'er the mountain with light and song:_x000D__x000D_Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,_x000D__x000D_By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,_x000D__x000D_By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,_x000D__x000D_By the green leaves, opening as I pass.

We cannot rely on ourselves, for we have learned by bitter experience the folly of self-confidence. We are compelled to look to the Lord alone. Blessed is the wind that drives the ship into the harbor. Blessed is the distress that forces us to rest in our God.

Hark, I hear a robin calling!_x000D__x000D_List, the wind is from the south!_x000D__x000D_And the orchard-bloom is falling_x000D__x000D_Sweet as kisses on the mouth._x000D__x000D__x000D_In the dreamy vale of beeches_x000D__x000D_Fair and faint is woven mist,_x000D__x000D_And the river's orient reaches_x000D__x000D_Are the palest amethyst._x000D__x000D__x000D_Every limpid brook is singing_x000D__x000D_Of the lure of April days;_x000D__x000D_Every piney glen is ringing_x000D__x000D_With the maddest roundelays._x000D__x000D__x000D_Come and let us seek together_x000D__x000D_Springtime lore of daffodils,_x000D__x000D_Giving to the golden weather_x000D__x000D_Greeting on the sun-warm hills.