Wind Quotes - Page 12

• Everything's got a purpose, really - you just have to look for it. Cats are good at keeping old dogs alive. Loss helps you reach for gain. Death helps you celebrate life. War helps you work for peace. A flood makes you glad you're still standing. And a tall boy can stop the wind so a candle of hope can burn bright.

  Joan Bauer

  Dog, War, Cat

  "Stand Tall". Book by Joan Bauer, August 26, 2002.

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• Give me a hot coal glowing bright red, Give me an ember sizzling with heat, These are the jewels made from my beak. We fly between the flames and never get singed We plunge through the smoke and never cringe. The secrets of fire, its strange winds, its rages, We know it all as it rampages Through forests, through canyons, Up hillsides and down. We track it. We'll find it. Take coals by the pound. We'll yarp in the heart of the hottest flame Then bring back its coals an make them tame. For we are the colliers brave and beyond all We are the owls of the colliering chaw!

  Kathryn Lasky

  Heart, Fire, Glowing

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• Before you save anyone else, you have to save yourself. otherwise, you'rejust a bundle of tics, a stringed puppet manipulated by the chance and the insensible wind.

  Gregory Maguire

  Puppets, Chance, Tics

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• Winter hurled more wind and rain at the city than it ever had before. Clouds dashed about in all directions emptying their thunder, hail and rain. The horizon was choked in fog.

  Ismail Kadaré

  Rain, Winter, Clouds

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• So let the way wind up the hill or down, O’er rough or smooth, the journey will be joy; Still seeking what I sought when but a boy, New friendship, high adventure, and a crown. My heart will keep the courage of the quest, And hope the road’s last turn will be the best.

  Henry Van Dyke

  Heart, Adventure, Journey

  Henry Van Dyke (1904). “Music, and Other Poems”

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• The great miraculous bell of translucent ice is suspended in mid-air. It rings to announce endings and beginnings. And it rings because there is fresh promise and wonder in the skies. Its clear tones resound in the placid silence of the winter day, and echo long into the silver-blue serenity of night. The bell can only be seen at the turning of the year, when the days wind down into nothing, and get ready to march out again. When you hear the bell, you feel a tug at your heart. It is your immortal inspiration.

  Vera Nazarian

  Inspiration, Heart, Winter

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• I know already that I will return to this day whenever I want to. I can bid it alive. Preserve it. There is a still point where the present, the now, winds around itself, and nothing is tangled. The river is not where it begins or ends, but right in the middle point, anchored by what has happened and what is to arrive.

  Colum McCann

  Rivers, Tangled, Alive

  Colum McCann (2009). “Let The Great World Spin”, p.240, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• Just sit tight. Reinforcements should be here soon. Hopefully nothing happens before-" Lightning crackled overhead. The wind picked up with a vengeance. Worksheets flew into the Grand Canyon, and the entire bridge shuddered. Kids screamed, stumbling and grabbing the rails. "I had to say something," Hedge grumbled. He bellowed into his megaphone: "Everyone inside! The cow says moo! Off the skywalk!" "I thought you said this thing was stable!" Jason shouted over the wind. "Under normal circumstances," Hedge agreed, "which these aren't.

  Rick Riordan

  Kids, Bridges, Lightning

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• You want the truth, of course. You want me to put two and two together. But two and two doesn’t necessarily get you the truth. Two and two equals a voice outside the window. Two and two equals the wind. The living bird is not its labeled bones.

  Margaret Atwood

  Two, Voice, Bird

  "The Blind Assassin". Book by Margaret Atwood, September 2, 2000.

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• And what are you that, missing you, I should be kept awake As many nights as there are days With weeping for your sake? And what are you that, missing you, As many days as crawl I should be listening to the wind And looking at the wall? I know a man that’s a braver man And twenty men as kind, And what are you, that you should be The one man in my mind? Yet women’s ways are witless ways, As any sage will tell,— And what am I, that I should love So wisely and so well?

  Edna St. Vincent Millay

  Wall, Night, Men

  Edna St. Vincent Millay (2003). “Edna St. Vincent Millay: Selected Poems”, p.55, Library of America

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• Rust, corrosion, wind, rain. The nibbling teeth of mice and the acrid droppings of insects and the devouring jaws of years. The was of nature upon machines, of the planet's chaotic forces upon the works of humankind. The energy that man had pulled from the earth was being inexorably pulled back into it, sucked like water down a drain. Before long, if it hadn't happened already, not a single high-tension pole would be left standing on the earth. Mankind had built a world that would take a hundred years to die. A century for the last light to go out.

  Justin Cronin

  Rain, Men, Light

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• Sometimes the wind along the Pacific shore blows so hard it steals your breath before you can inhale it.

  Timothy Egan

  Blow, Sometimes, Stealing

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• 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.

  Alfred Lord Tennyson

  Heart, Fire, Light

  Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Illustrated)”, p.295, Delphi Classics

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• If it's ka it'll come like a wind, and your plans will stand before it no more than a barn before a cyclone

  Stephen King

  Cyclones, Barns, Plans

  Stephen King (2016). “The Dark Tower IV: Wizard and Glass”, p.191, Simon and Schuster

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• As I age in the world it will rise and spread, and be for this place horizon and orison, the voice of its winds. I have made myself a dream to dream of its rising, that has gentled my nights. Let me desire and wish well the life these trees may live when I no longer rise in the mornings to be pleased with the green of them shining, and their shadows on the ground, and the sound of the wind in them.

  Wendell Berry

  Dream, Morning, Night

  Wendell Berry (2012). “New Collected Poems”, p.179, Counterpoint Press

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• The wind sounded of Mother Earth's forsaken and abandoned cries.

  Cormac McCarthy

  Mother, Earth, Cry

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• Little solace comes to those who grieve when thoughts keep drifting as walls keep shifting and this great blue world of ours seems a house of leaves moments before the wind.

  Mark Z. Danielewski

  Wall, Grieving, Blue

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• Will you remember that? Anywhere you are, if you can look up and find Perseus in the sky, find that smile, and hear the galactic wind whisper your name, you'll know that it's me, calling for you... calling you back to Lazarevo. (Alexander)

  Paullina Simons

  Sky, Names, Looks

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• Finally he said that if men drink the blood of God yet they do not understand the seriousness of what they do. He said that men wish to be serious but they do not understand how to be so. Between their acts and their ceremonies lies the world and in this world the storms blow and the trees twist in the wind and all the animals that God has made go to and fro yet this world men do not see. They see the acts of their own hands or they see that which they name and call out to one another but the world between is invisible to them

  Cormac McCarthy

  Lying, Men, Animal

  Cormac McCarthy (2013). “The Border Trilogy”, p.331, Pan Macmillan

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• I was leaving the South to fling myself into the unknown . . . I was taking a part of the South to transplant in alien soil, to see if it could grow differently, if it could drink of new and cool rains, bend in strange winds, respond to the warmth of other suns and, perhaps, to bloom

  Richard Wright

  Rain, Leaving, Soil

  Richard Wright (1997). “Richard Wright Reader”

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• I can still see her face -- The sorrow in her eyes, her voice, as she condemns me. I didn't know it was possible to feel such shame. To feel so sick at heart. I'm lost inside, my soul -- all that I thought I was, and am, and ever will be -- shattered, cast to the winds. Compared to this, death is a mercy.

  Chris Claremont

  Eye, Heart, Voice

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• I wish the night would end, I wish the day'd begin, I wish it would rain or snow, or the wind would blow, or the grass would grow, I wish I had yesterday, I wish there were games to play.

  Virginia C. Andrews

  Rain, Blow, Night

  Virginia C. Andrews (2004). “Flowers in the Attic”

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• There was no one color that could paint Lena Duchannes. She was a red sweater and a blue sky, a gray wind and a silver sparrow, a black curl escaping from behind her ear.

  Kami Garcia

  Blue, Escaping, Color

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• You know how it feels right before a tornado hits? I mean when the sky's still clear, but the wind's starting to cool off and change direction. You know something's coming, but you don't always know what. That's how things feel to me right now." -Zoey Redbird

  P. C. Cast

  Mean, Sky, Tornadoes

  P. C. Cast, Kristin Cast (2007). “Betrayed: A House of Night Novel”, p.76, Macmillan

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• I listen to the wind,
  to the wind of my soul
  Where I end up, well, I think
  only God really knows.

  Cat Stevens

  Thinking, Soul, Ends

  "Song: 'The Wind' ('Teaser and the Firecat')". 1971.

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