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Wind Quotes

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Wind Quotes

“What's prayer? It's shooting shafts into the dark. What mark they strike, if any, who's to say? It's reaching for a hand you cannot touch. The silence is so fathomless that prayers like plummets vanish into the sea. You beg. You whimper. You load God down with empty praise. You tell him sins that he already knows full well. You seek to change his changeless will. Yet Godric prays the way he breathes, for else his heart would wither in his breast. Prayer is the wind that fills his sail. Else drift with witless tides. And sometimes, by God's grace, a prayer is heard.”

IfsKnowsWayWellsHeartSometimesHandsDarkPrayerSinSilenceGraceHeardSeaWindPrayingEmptyMarkPraiseBreatheStrikesShootingReachingBreastsTidesLoadSailSilence IsGod's Grace
Author:Frederick Buechner
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“Love is not a hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and colour are always, wild!”

NightHouseBornHoursChanceLove IsWindFlowerGardenHotPlantSeedsColourSunshineWeedWetScentSprung
Book:The Forsyte Saga 1: The Man of Property: The Forsyte Saga: Book One
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“Shadowfax tossed his head and cried aloud, as if a trumpet had summoned him to battle. Then he sprang forward. Fire flew from his feet; night rushed over him. As he fell slowly into sleep, Pippin had a strange feeling: he and Gandalf were still as stone, seated upon the statue of a running horse, while the world rolled away beneath his feet with a great noise of wind.”

IfsWorldStillsFeelingsRunningNightSleepFireFeetStrangeWindBattleStonesHorseNoiseCriedStatuesFlewTrumpetsPippin
Book:The Lord of the Rings: One Volume
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“From that day on, it was the desert that would be important. She would look to it everyday, and would try to guess which star the boy was following in search of his treasure. She would have to send her kisses on the wind hoping that the wind would touch the boy's face, and would tell him that she was alive.”

TryingLooksImportantWould BeFacesStarsBoysAliveWindKissingEverydayFollowingTreasureDesert
Book:The Alchemist - 10th Anniversary Edition
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“There is nothing else in magic but the wild thought of the bird as it casts itself into the void. There is no creature upon the earth with such potential for magic. Even the least of them may fly straight out of this world and come by chance to the Other Lands. Where does the wind come from that blows upon your face, that fans the pages of your book? Where the harum-scarum magic of small wild creatures meets the magic of Man, where the language of the wind and the rain and the trees can be understood, there we will find the Raven King.”

MenWorldMayDoeBookEarthFacesLanguageChanceMagicTreeFansLandThis WorldWindKingsCreaturesPagesBirdUnderstoodRainCastsBlowYour FaceVoidRavensWild Creatures
Author:Susanna Clarke
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“Rochester: "I am no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut-tree in Thornfield orchard…And what right would that ruin have to bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with freshness?" Jane: "You are no ruin sir - no lighting-struck tree: you are green and vigorous. Plants will grow about your roots, whether you ask them or not, because they take delight in your bountiful shadow; and as they grow they will lean towards you, and wind round you, because your strength offers them so safe a prop.”

AsksGrowsTreeWindOffersSafeShadowRootsGreenPlantRoundsDelightRuinsDecayLightningJaneLightingVigorousPropsFreshnessOrchardChestnutsRochester
Author:Charlotte Bronte
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“All around us lies what we neither understand nor use. Our capacities, our instincts for this our present sphere are but half developed. Let us confine ourselves to that till the lesson be learned; let us be completely natural; before we trouble ourselves with the supernatural. I never see any of these things but I long to get away and lie under a green tree and let the wind blow on me. There is marvel and charm enough in that for me.”

LongEnoughUseLyingNaturalHalfTroubleTreeWindLessonsCapacityGreenInstinctBlowCharmGet AwaySpheresGreen Trees
Book:The Essential Margaret Fuller
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“His conviction of having no purpose in life other than to act as a distillation of poison was part of the ego of an eighteen-year-old. He had resolved that his beautiful white hands would never be soiled or calloused. He wanted to be like a pennant, dependent on each gusting wind. The only thing that seemed valid to him was to live for the emotions--gratuitous and unstable, dying only to quicken again, dwindling and flaring without direction or purpose.”

YearsHandsWantedBeautifulPurposeWhiteEmotionDyingWindEgoConvictionPoisonDependentPurpose Of LifeEighteenUnstableDistillationEighteen Years Old
Book:Spring Snow
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“It is no secret. All power is one in source and end, I think. Years and distances, stars and candles, water and wind and wizardry, the craft in a man's hand and the wisdom in a tree's root: they all arise together. My name, and yours, and the true name of the sun, or a spring of water, or an unborn child, all are syllables of the great word that is very slowly spoken by the shining of the stars. There is no other power. No other name.”

ThinkingMenYearsChildrenEndsHandsTogetherNamesStarsWaterSecretSunTreeWindSourceSpringRootsDistanceShiningAriseCraftsCandleUnbornSyllablesWizardryUnborn Child
Author:Ursula K. Le Guin
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“The weeping of the guitar begins. The goblets of dawn are smashed. The weeping of the guitar begins. Useless to silence it. Impossible to silence it. It weeps monotonously as water weeps as the wind weeps over snowfields. Impossible to silence it. It weeps for distant things. Hot southern sands yearning for white camellias. Weeps arrow without target evening without morning and the first dead bird on the branch. Oh, guitar! Heart mortally wounded by five swords.”

FirstsHeartWaterWhiteSilenceMorningFiveImpossibleWindBirdHotGuitarEveningUselessDawnBranchesSandTargetSouthernYearningWoundedArrowsWeepingCamellias
Author:Federico Garcia Lorca
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“Love was a sacred garment, woven of a fabric so thin that it could not be seen, yet so strong that even mighty death could not tear it, a garment that could not be frayed by use, that brought warmth into what would otherwise be an intolerable, cold world- but at times love could also be as heavy as chain mail. Bearing the burden of love, on those occasions when it was a solemn weight, made it more precious when, in better times, it caught the wind in sleeves like wings, and lifted you.”

WorldMadeUseStrongTearsWindColdWeightSacredWingsCaughtBurdenHeavyChainsMade ItOccasionsWarmthMailFabricSolemnGarmentsSleevesWovenTime LoveCold World
Book:False Memory
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“At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen, You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun. And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten, And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done.”

IfsFeelsTwoDoneNightDarkMorningSunTreeFeetWindShadowWindowClockMoonlightDark NightDeep DarkGlisten
Book:Delphi Collected Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated)
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“I've just been playing the Trout Quintet on the phonograph. Listening to the andantino makes me want to be a trout myself. You can't help rejoicing and laughing, however moved or sad you feel, when you see the springtime clouds in the sky, the budding branches, moved by the wind, in the bright early sunlight. I'm really looking forward to the spring again. In that piece of Schubert's you can positively feel and smell the breeze and hear the birds and the whole of creation shouting for joy.”

WantFeelsWholeHelpingJoyLaughingPiecesSkyCreationWindListeningSpringBirdMovedCloudsSmellBranchesRejoiceSunlightBreezeLooking ForwardPositivelySpringtimeShoutingTroutSchubertPhonograph
Author:Sophie Scholl
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“Three or four times only in my youth did I glimpse the Joyous Isles, before they were lost to fogs, depressions, cold fronts, ill winds, and contrary tides... I mistook them for adulthood. Assuming they were a fixed feature in my life's voyage, I neglected to record their latitude, their longitude, their approach. Young ruddy fool. What wouldn't I give now for a never-changing map of the ever-constant ineffable? To possess, as it were, an atlas of clouds.”

GivingYoungThreeLostRecordsFourFrontsYouthWindFoolColdApproachConstantAssumingCloudsIllContraryFeaturesFixedMapsTidesAdulthoodGlimpseFogNeglectedJoyousVoyagesIneffableIsleAtlasLatitude
Author:David Mitchell
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“A Note Life is the only way to get covered in leaves, catch your breath on the sand, rise on wings; to be a dog, or stroke its warm fur; to tell pain from everything it's not; to squeeze inside events, dawdle in views, to seek the least of all possible mistakes. An extraordinary chance to remember for a moment a conversation held with the lamp switched off; and if only once to stumble upon a stone, end up soaked in one downpour or another, mislay your keys in the grass; and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes; and to keep on not knowing something important.”

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Book:Monologue of a Dog
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“Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows - then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason." And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, - then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion.”

HeartReasonMovingPassionWhiteSilenceSkyFieldsWindStormForestsHillsAweShakesShadeSerenityLightningThunderMajestyMeadowsThunder And LightningPeace And SerenityMighty Wind
Book:The Prophet - Der Prophet
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