Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Gusts. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Gusts Quotes And Sayings by 90 Authors including Doreen Virtue,Bertolt Brecht,David Mitchell,J.r. Ward,Pindar for you to enjoy and share.
The wind is a natural way to loosen and release dead leaves and branches, just as emotional and life-situation storms are opportunities for humans to release 'deadwood' and anything needing to be swept away.
The storm that bends the birch trees Is held to be violent But how about the storm That bends the backs of the roadworkers?
A blundering wind scatters yellowed leaves...
A gust of wind went Nike across the flat landscape
But in one short span of time winds quickly shift direction, veering back and forth.
Like a highstorm, regular in their coming, yet always unexpected.
It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.
Air, I should explain, becomes wind when it is agitated.
The wind shifts like this:
Like a human without illusions,
Who still feels irrational things within her.
Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies; The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare, And shed their substance on the floating air.
A great wind is blowing and that either gives you imagination ... or a headache.
A wind that blows aimlessly is no good to anyone.
Overhead soft-bellied clouds panic toward the horizon like whales before the harpoon, and the wind runs addict's fingers through the trees that line the street.
A storm was brewing. The wind has picked up and a mass of purple clouds was coming in from the West. It felt good to have my hair whipping around my head. I thought it might feel good to have hail beat down on me. Sometimes storms outside are the only relief for storms inside ...
A persistent breeze lifted the thin curtains, fluttering a few moments of tranquility into the turbulent day.
The air had lost its icy feel, but now a thin, sickly mist clung to everything, wrapping around tree trunks and moving over the ground in visible tides.
Lightly, lightly, very lightly,
A wind passes very lightly
And goes away, always very lightly.
And I don't know what I think
And I don't want to know.
The wind is made of haunting souls
that moan and groan
in whistles and whispers.
This ghostly choir chills the breeze
and orchestrates a rise of goose bumps
on my skin.
It's not that the wind is blowing, it's what the wind is blowing.
Up home we loved a good storm coming, we'd fly outdoors and run up and down to meet it," her mother used to say. "We children would run as fast as we could go along the top of that mountain when the wind was blowing, holding our arms right open. The wilder it blew the better we liked it.
I hate storms, but calms undermine my spirits.
A breeze passes in the night. When did it spring up? Whence does it come? Whither is it going? No man knows.
For raging wind blows up incessant showers
enjoying the feel of the rushing wind. It's not wind rushing, it's us, she thought.
When the wind carries a cry which is meaningful to human ears, it is simpler to believe the wind shares with us some part of the emotion of Being than that the mysteries of a hurricane's rising murmur reduce to no more than the random collision of insensate molecules.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
Outrage alternated with a sweaty fear he had never before felt. Something, it seemed to him was being drained from him, leaving the body feeling like a very dry sponge, very light, completely at the mercy of sly toying gusts of wind.
freezing force of the wind. When the blades
The falling away of things we carry around with us, twilight and chimney smoke.
A wind picked up, rattling the windows, and the candle flames suddenly shifted, dancing along the border between turbulence and order.
The wind likes making jokes!
When the wind came it split the sky and shouldered the cloud-band left and right; unbarring great clear furnaces of rolling gold.
Sopping, and with no sign of stopping, either- then a breather. Warm again, storm again- what is the norm, again? It's fine, it's not, it's suddenly hot: Boom, crash, lightning flash!
My boy, one small breeze doesn't make a wind storm.
Wind ought to be a verb or an adverb. It isn't really anything. It's a manner of movement of warmth and cold: a kind of information system of the air.
Listen to it, and you are hearing the mighty currents of the air rushing down the latitudes of the earth, currents from the Mackenzie and the Athabasca and the Saskatchewan, and from the prairies and the white Tundra. It is a homeless wind, forever on the move.
The strong wind rises against the trees so they bend like girls washing their hair.
Winter teetered on the verge of succumbing to the returning sun, but today the breeze still preferred the touch of snowflakes
There was a cold wind out on the street. It picked up the dust, whirled it about and suddenly scattered it, flinging it down like black chaff. There was an implacable severity in the frost, in the branches that tapped together like bones, in the icy blue of the tram-lines.
The wind makes you ache in some place that is deeper than your bones.
A sunny, happy day is beautiful, but when it's moody, and storm is coming, there's an energy in the air.
The wind is like the golden breath of the world; when it blows, we feel that the world is alive and so are we!
...this feeling that the air was tearing itself apart.
The windy satisfaction of the tongue.
The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies.
When the wind likes a path, the weeds around that path will tremble all day long!
The wind's in the east ... I am always conscious of an uncomfortable sensation now and then when the wind is blowing in the east.
A great storm is like a sunny day to a person of great faith. A gentle wind is like a great storm to a person of great fear.
The wind is the appalling enemy. It is mind-destroying, physically-destroying, soul-destroying ...
Wind is the heart of the wave, the spoon of the sea and the angry bull of the ships. Without wind, there is no ardour, no agitation!
I hear the howl of the wind that brings
The long drear storm on its heavy wings.
In fierce March weather White waves break tether, And whirled together At either hand, Like weeds uplifted, The tree-trunks rifted In spars are drifted, Like foam or sand.
commotion and flurry.
For Breezes remind me of kisses. And kisses can be eternal.
You can choose right now to change the way you are experiencing a windstorm. Adjust your sails.
And the drops of rain. They are delicate, at first, their splashes graceful against pavement. Soon, though, the soft patter grows into a furious storm.
The temperatures rising in the slow-moving air like the heat of angered flesh as capillaries squeezed, the blood in them rising to a boil.
Sometimes the wind blows you places you weren't expecting: sometimes it blows you away from those places, too.
Winds sweep the passages of time
Forever more
Taking, leaving
Memories.
I fill my lungs with the feeling; I step into the slight breeze and clutch a fistful of wind as it weaves its way through my fingers.
Flakes of white fall thru the trees and onto the road, catching on our clothes and hair. It's a silent fall and it's weird how it makes everything else seem quiet, too, like it's trying to tell you a secret, a terrible, terrible secret.
Or was the chill I felt triggered by forces other than wind?
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth. You're an idiot babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.
When the wind blows,the grass bends.
Spontaneous storms, and changes in color that were not tied to changes in wind speeds, and fractal borders, bounded infinities scrolling inside each other. We were looking at a mind thinking. A mind feeling.
The woodwind glissando of the whale's cry.
If you have never been at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of the confusion of mind occasioned by wind and spry together. They blind, deafen, and strangle you, and take away all power of action or reflection.
Dry snow coming down in the hills.
Magpies hair-triggered and thuggish in worn trees.
A wall has started to fall in you, it will take years to land.
A gust of wind rattles the window, and I look out. Leaves are whooshing all over the place, flying past horizontally as if they have engines of their own.
The Santa Ana Wind
gusts down
desert canyons.
Hot. Dry. Electric.
Some say
it ignites tempers.
I say
it ignited us.
This wind's like to push us off the Wall, and I never did learn the knack of flying. They
based on what the wind does, we build
Storms are sex. They exist alongside and are indifferent to words and description and dissection.
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.
A storm is coming. A great storm.
the large black birds swirling and dispersing over
A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.
Lay not the blame on me, O sailor, but on the winds. By nature I am as calm and safe as the land itself, but the winds fall upon me with their gusts and gales, and lash me into a fury that is not natural to me.
Eddies of dry wind whipped tatters of cloth and reed paper about in dancing circles.
A strange ripple...like an unexpected changing of the tide.
It is the north wind that lashes men into Vikings; it is the soft, luscious south wind which lulls them to lotus dreams.
The slightest stirring in the air can set a hurricane in motion a thousand miles off. (Acheron)
The mist after rain, uninterrupted rainfall on rooftops, pitter-patter intellect. The thoughts I leave behind like footsteps.
Storms give you a chance to surpass yourself!
Sometimes the wind along the Pacific shore blows so hard it steals your breath before you can inhale it.
There is a great deal of unmapped country within us which would have to be taken into account in an explanation of our gusts and storms.
Hard winds and strong ideas have powerful muscles; they can knock you down easily!
Narrow lanes climb both slopes and come together in a great ring of elm trees which encircles the flat summit. Any wind
even the slightest
draws from the height of the elms a rushing sound, multifoliate and powerful.
Let the wind change direction a little bit, and their cries turned to whispers.
Sailors on a becalmed sea, we sense the stirring of a breeze.
A turmoil of winds rushed around him, spiraling up in to the air: he was thinking.
The wind is old, but it keeps blowing.
Seas are the fields of combat for the winds; but when they sweep along some flowery coast, their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.
It had been like swallowing a gust of October wind.
When a hurricane thrashes the mid-Atlantic, my hilly town often reaps the fringe of the storm. The rain starts blowing sideways, and sometimes we see hail the size of purie marbles.
There is something about the wind ... even though it can't be seen it brushes against our soul and we know it is there even during the silence.
Dull November brings the blast, Then the leaves are whirling fast.
No one can tell me, Nobody knows, Where the wind comes from, Where the wind goes.Wind-- A.a. Milne
Trees quiver in the wind,
sailing on a sea of mist
out of earshot.
Every wind is fare when we are flying from misfortune.
He didn't look as if he'd been through a whirlwind exactly but he'd certainly endured a stiff breeze.