I am love, I love air, water, sun, green, hands, butterflies, birds, fish, cats, trees, you – walking, swimming, dancing, exploring new places, exploring tiny things, exploring thoughts, dreams, bigger than me dreams, like cloud...

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?

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

She loves him sobut he didn’t stay.The wind can’t blowthis storm away.

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...

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...

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...

unfettered leewardings,” here at the end of the world.

Wind is on fire” – beautiful words. What causes the fire, what enhances it, and what finally extinguishes it by itself or by bringing in rainclouds, gets identified with it. Do breath and life have...

Oh, I wasn’t saying no,” Mistress Weatherwax said, taking two large pickled cucumbers.

There are no roses in my yard: what wind brought you?But I suddenly come from far away. I was sick for a moment.No wind whatsoever brought you now.Now you’re here.What you were isn’t you, or...

When you pour out words from your heart to your lover, make sure they aren’t on a paper vessel and lost to the wind.

How many times did the sun shine, how many times did the wind howl over the desolate tundras, over the bleak immensity of the Siberian taigas, over the brown deserts where the Earth’s salt shines,...

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...

Wind is the sacred music of the leaves; wherever and whenever the wind blows, over there leaves start their holy dancing frantically!

If I had been on ‘Bowling for Dollars’, I’d wind up owing them money.

I believe in going with the flow. I don’t believe in fighting against the flow. You ride on your river and you go with the tides and the flow. But it has to be your...

I love the sound of the trees in the breeze. If the forest is so clearly musical, why can’t it play the guitar while I sing Nirvana covers?

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair

Looking back on my life, I sigh. The caprice of youth goes with the wind, I’ve no regrets.

In the end, what will you fight for– what got there first, what got there last or what has been there all along?

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.

beauty such as theirs was something with which one lived joyously — racing with the wind, with storm and snow, dancing in the frost or among the golden wattles, galloping, galloping in the spring sun....

For the first time in four billion years a living creature had contemplated himself and heard with a sudden, unaccountable loneliness, the whisper of the wind in the night reeds.

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.

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

The bleak autumn wind was still blowing, and the solemn, surging moan of it in the wood was dreary and awful to hear through the night silence. Issac felt strangely wakeful. He resolved, as he...

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

Meanwhile the colonel followed the mad woman, and by a strange effect of the superexcitation of his senses, saw her in the darkness, through the mist, as plainly as in broad daylight; he heard her...

I sneezed into the wind, and closed my eyes and imagined my face was barraged by cool ocean spray.

The collar had restrained his winds but not killed them. They uncoiled from behind the shadows, ready to surround her, to lift her up, to carry her away with only Ariel’s silk-clad arms wrapped about...

To a fireman, wind is a curse. To a sailor, wind is a blessing.

I’ve lived to se my longings dieI’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...

I can feel the wind go by when I run. It feels good. It feels fast.

Words are wind.

For me, walking in a hard Dakota wind can be like staring at the ocean: humbled before its immensity, I also have a sense of being at home on this planet, my blood so like...

After that hard winter, one could not get enough of the nimble air. Every morning I wakened with a fresh consciousness that winter was over. There were none of the signs of spring for which...

Grace will meet you in the valley, and her song will carry you home on the wind to another sky filled with ethereal beauty unfolding and love everlasting.

There was no wind in all that sweep of sky.

I? I am the wind,’ said Thowra. ‘I come, I pass, and I am gone.’ The strange feathers moved up and down, the strange voice said tartly: ‘And are your sons the same?’ ‘My son...

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

Verovao vetru, povetarcu, sad sam oduvan od razočarenja.

I am floating, I thought, completely without anchor, at the mercy of the wind.

When I opened my eyes I saw nothing but the pool of nocturnal sky, for I was lying on my back with out-stretched arms, face to face with that hatchery of stars. Only half awake,...

Dirt makes a man look masculine. Let your hair blow in the wind, and all that. It’s OK. All you have to do is look neat when you have to look neat.

Like vanishing dew,a passing apparitionor the sudden flashof lightning — already gone –thus should one regard one’s self.

. . .our whispered words, faintly in the darkness, dissolvingwithin the trees—then, fleeting words of consolationwould not suffice if feigned, and flippant wordsconfessed reluctance—our wordswere meaningless uttered on the wind. . .

We are candles, I remember thinking, and the wind is rising.

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...

I kept staring into the blackness of the woods, drawn into the darkness as I always had been. I suddenly realized how alone I was. (But this is how you travel, the wind whispered back,...