Best Wind Quotes

As long as I live, I’ll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I’ll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I’ll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can.

Life is a maze of doors and they all open from the side you’re on. Just keep on pushing hard boy, try as you may, you’re going to wind up where you started from.

Adversity is like a strong wind. I don’t mean just that it holds us back from places we might otherwise go. It also tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that afterward we see ourselves as we really are.

I keep sailing on in this middle passage. I am sailing into the wind and the dark. But I am doing my best to keep my boat steady and my sails full.

Our lives are like a candle in the wind.

When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.

I’d buy myself a cabin on the beach, I’d put some glue in my navel, and I’d stick a flag in there. Then I’d wait to see which way the wind was blowing.

I don’t know where this Arctic wind has come from but it’s freezing!

I realized that it’s insane to oppose it. When I argue with reality, I lose-but only 100% of the time. How do I know that the wind should blow? It’s blowing!

I know how the birds fly, how the fishes swim, how animals run. But there is the Dragon. I cannot tell how it mounts on the winds through the clouds and flies through heaven. Today I have seen the Dragon.

Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.

I was born on the prairies where the wind blew free and there was nothing to break the light of the sun. I was born where there were no enclosures.

It is the horrible texture of a fabric that should be woven of ships’ cables and hawsers. A Polar wind blows through it, and birds of prey hover over it.

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.

?The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour’d upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro’ with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight.

The good news is that we’ve seen in recent years significant reductions in the cost of solar panels and wind production. We know how significant an impact we can have by moving towards energy efficiency and transforming our transportation system. So we know what has to be done. We have to develop the political will to do it, and, as president, this would be an issue of huge concern to me.

The wind doesn’t bother me. I’m in the US Senate.

Music is real; it’s something you can touch and feel. It moves you – the bass literally shakes you and rocks you from the inside. Music makes your soul feel amazing while you’re performing it. It’s not air, it’s not wind, it’s not anything like that. It’s solid. It’s thick. It’s like summertime in New York.

Come in, dear wind, and be our guest You too have neither home nor rest.

The deepest words of the wise man teach us the same as the whistle of the wind when it blows or the sound of the water when it is flowing.

A sentence starts out like a lone traveler heading into a blizzard at midnight, tilting into the wind, one arm shielding his face, the tails of his thin coat flapping behind him.

The time shall come, when, free as seas or wind, Unbounded Thames shall flow for all mankind, Whole nations enter with each swelling tide, And seas but join the regions they divide; Earth’s distant ends our glory shall behold, And the new world launch forth to seek the old.

One day some people came to the master and asked: How can you be happy in a world of such impermanence, where you cannot protect your loved ones from harm, illness or death? The master held up a glass and said: Someone gave me this glass; It holds my water admirably and it glistens in the sunlight. I touch it and it rings! One day the wind may blow it off the shelf, or my elbow may knock it from the table. I know this glass is already broken, so I enjoy it – incredibly.

The most straightforward path would be if we could bring the cost of solar electric and wind down by another factor of say, three, and then have some miraculous storage solution, so that not only over the 24-hour day but over long periods of time where the wind doesn’t blow, you have reliable energy. That’s a path. But energy storage is hard. That’s not a guaranteed path.

His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind.

As a fire blazes brightly when the covering of ash over it is scattered by the wind, the divine fire within the body shines in all its majesty when the ashes of desire are scattered by the practice of pranayama.

There’s a sureness to good writing even when what’s being written about doesn’t make all that much sense. It’s the sureness of the so-called seat of an accomplished horseback rider or a sailor coming about in a strong wind. The words have both muscle and grace, familiarity and surprise.

I built a leprechaun trap that was made to look like a tiny hotel. There was a ramp where the leprechaun could walk into the hotel, see a Lego pot of gold on the other side, try to reach it, fall through a trap door, go through a tube, wind up in a biscuit tin, and be trapped. My mom, encouraging my madness, told me that the leprechaun might escape and that I needed a shot glass of whiskey down there to keep him occupied while he was in there.

I’ve lived to bury my desires and see my dreams corrode with rust now all that’s left are fruitless fires that burn my empty heart to dust. Struck by the clouds of cruel fate My crown of Summer bloom is sere Alone and sad, I watch and wait And wonder if the end is near. As conquered by the last cold air When Winter whistles in the wind Alone upon a branch that’s bare A trembling leaf is left behind.

There was a land of Cavaliers and Cotton Fields called the Old South. Here in this pretty world, Gallantry took its last bow. Here was the last ever to be seen of Knights and their Ladies Fair, of Master and of Slave. Look for it only in books, for it is no more than a dream remembered, a Civilization gone with the wind.

I think the world on the other side of fossil fuel is more local – the logic of sun and wind is diffuse and spread out, not concentrated like the logic of coal and oil.

When the heavens are with you, when the earth is with you, when the sea is with you, when the wind is with you. Who’s going to defeat you after that? Nobody.

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

Mother loved the wind. When I was growing up, she would recite this poem to me. Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I, But when the trees bow down their heads, The wind is passing by. So it is with God.

I think guys wind up after a while not wanting another guy sleeping with the girl they’re with. But eventually everyone wants something more. We all have that desire for something special, something committed. We all want to be The One.