Wind Quotes - Page 29

• I thought I would keep it on the ground until I became familiar with it, but on account of the wind, I unexpectedly took to the air, and the first thing I knew, I was flying.

  Arthur P. Warner

  Airplane, Flying, Firsts

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• I headed for this white mountain, but was caught in the wind and the mist . . . I followed the cliff from north to south, but the wind, against which I was fighting, got even stronger. A break in the coast appeared to my right, just before Dover Castle. I was madly happy. I headed for it. I rushed for it. I was above ground!

  Louis Bleriot

  Airplane, Fighting, White

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• It was Indian summer, a bluebird sort of day as we call it in the north, warm and sunny, without a breath of wind; the water was sky-blue, the shores a bank of solid gold.

  Sigurd F. Olson

  Summer, Fall, Autumn

  Sigurd F. Olson (1969). “Open horizons”, Alfred A. Knopf

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• No matter what calamities befall him in everyday life, the true hacker still needs the pressure and inconvenience of four hours of trudging in wind or rain or sleet or sun (or all of them at once), hacking at a white pellet that seems to have a mind of its own and a lousy sense of direction.

  Tom O'Connor

  Rain, Golf, White

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• Sun on my shoulders and the wind at my back, bound and determined to get back on track to where the heart is..where it's been all along.

  Tim McGraw

  Heart, Track, Together

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• The wind that makes music in November corn is in a hurry. The stalks hum, the loose husks whisk skyward in half-playing swirls, and the wind hurries on.... A tree tries to argue, bare limbs waving, but there is no detaining the wind.

  Aldo Leopold

  Fall, Autumn, Tree

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• When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.

  Matsuo Basho

  Fall, Autumn, Lips

  Bash? Matsuo, Basho, Asataro Miyamori (2002). “Classic Haiku: An Anthology of Poems by Basho and His Followers”, p.166, Courier Corporation

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• My heart is a garden tired with autumn,
  Heaped with bending asters and dahlias heavy and dark,
  In the hazy sunshine, the garden remembers April,
  The drench of rains and a snow-drop quick and clear as a spark;
  Daffodils blowing in the cold wind of morning,
  And golden tulips, goblets holding the rain -
  The garden will be hushed with snow, forgotten soon, forgotten -
  After the stillness, will spring come again?

  Sara Teasdale

  Morning, Spring, Rain

  Sara Teasdale, “The Garden”

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• The Sussex lanes were very lovely in the autumn ... spendthrift gold and glory of the year-end ... earth scents and the sky winds and all the magic of the countryside which is ordained for the healing of the soul.

  Monica Baldwin

  Fall, Healing, Autumn

  Monica Baldwin (1950). “I Leap Over the Wall: Contrasts and Impressions After Twenty-eight Years in a Convent”

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• There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellowed richness on the clustered trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds. Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird, Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned, And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved, Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the wayside a-weary.

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Beautiful, Summer, Sweet

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Illustrated)”, p.70, Delphi Classics

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• October, here's to you. Here's to the heady aroma of the frost-kissed apples, the winey smell of ripened grapes, the wild-as-the-wind smell of hickory nuts and the nostalgic whiff of that first wood smoke.

  Ken Weber

  Autumn, Nuts, Smell

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• Courage gives a leader the ability to stand straight and not sway, no matter which way the wind blows.

  Mike Krzyzewski

  Basketball, Blow, Giving

  Mike Krzyzewski, Donald T. Phillips (2010). “Leading with the Heart: Coach K's Successful Strategies for Basketball, Business, and Life”, p.173, Hachette UK

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• I love what I think, and I'm never tempted to believe it. Thoughts are like the wind or the leaves on the trees or the raindrops falling. They're not personal, they don't belong to us, they just come and go. When they're met with understanding, they're friends.

  Byron Katie

  Fall, Believe, Thinking

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• Winds flap the sail, tortoise and snake are silent, a great plan looms. A bridge will fly over this moat dug by heaven and be a road from north to south. We will make a stone wall against the upper river to the west and hold back steamy clouds and rain of Wu peaks. Over tall chasms will be a calm lake, and if the goddess of these mountains is not dead she will marvel at the changed world.

  Mao Zedong

  Wall, Rain, Lakes

  Zedong Mao (2008). “The Poems of Mao Zedong”, p.85, Univ of California Press

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• Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace, Where never the lark, nor even eagle flew- And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high, untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

  John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

  Space, Blue, Eagles

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• Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds, - and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air.

  John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

  Laughter, Military, Clouds

  In K. Rhys More Poems from the Forces (1943) "High Flight"

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• The winds that blow our billions away return burdened with themes of scorn and dispraise.

  Garet Garrett

  Peace, War, Blow

  Garet Garrett (1965). “The people's pottage”, Caxton Printers

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• We had a sunset of a very fine sort. The vast plain of the sea was marked off in bands of sharply-contrasted colors: great stretches of dark blue, others of purple, others of polished bronze; the billowy mountains showed all sorts of dainty browns and greens, blues and purples and blacks, and the rounded velvety backs of certain of them made one want to stroke them, as one would the sleek back of a cat.

  Mark Twain

  Stars, Sunset, Cat

  Mark Twain (2015). “Following the Equator: "A Journey Around the World"”, p.55, eKitap Projesi

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• The history omankind seems like kite flying; sometimes, when the wind is favorable, we let go the string a little and the kite soars a little higher; sometimes the wind is too rough and we have to lower it a little, and sometimes it gets caught among the tree branches; but to reach the upper strata of pure bliss-ah, perhaps never.

  Lin Yutang

  Letting Go, Men, Tree

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• It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would thou could'st make the time to do so too; I'll wind thee up no more.

  Ben Jonson

  Time, Sleep, Two

  Ben Jonson (1756). “Works: Collated with All the Former Editions, and Corrected with Notes Critical and Explanatory”, p.134

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• Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north - wind's breath, And stars to set; but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!

  John Milton

  Death, Time, Stars

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• I will not permit thirty men to travel four hundred miles to agitate a bag of wind.

  Andrew Dickson White

  Sports, Men, Bags

  On refusing permission for a team from Cornell University to visit Michigan to play a game of American football. Quoted in D Wallechinsky The People's Almanac (1975).

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• Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
  The seasons' difference, as the icy fang
  And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
  Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
  Even till I shrink with cold, I smile.

  William Shakespeare

  Winter, Blow, Differences

  'As You Like It' (1599) act 2, sc. 1, l. 2

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• So loving to my mother,
  That he might not beteem the winds of heaven,
  Visit her face' too roughly.

  William Shakespeare

  Mother, Love You, Heaven

  'Hamlet' (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 129

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• Her lips are roses over-washed with dew, Or like the purple of Narcissus' flower; No frost their fair, no wind doth waste their power, But by her breath her beauties to renew.

  Robert Greene

  Flower, Purple, Rose

  Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, Ben Jonson (188?). “The poems of Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben Johnson”

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