Top 1200 Autumn Wind Quotes & Sayings - Page 14

And the leaves were telling secrets to the wind.

Corn is cleaned with wind, and the Soul with chastening

Tis an ill wind that blows no minds.

God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.

You cannot power the world on wind and solar.

One does not argue about The Wind in the Willows.

Megaphone in which the wind passes singing.

If you don't know what port you are sailing to, no wind is favourable.

This is wine," Ghoolion said solemnly. "Wine is drinkable sunlight. It's the most glorious summer's day imaginable, captured in a bottle. Wine can be a melody in a cut-glass goblet, but it can also be a cacophony in a dirty tumbler, or a rainy autumn night, or a funeral march that scorches your tongue.

That wind. I see it's blowing now. Furtive but commanding, it has dictated every move we've ever made. My mother felt it, and so do I - even here, even now - as it sweeps us like leaves into his backseat corner, dancing us to shreds against the stones. V'la l'bon vent, v'a l'joli vent. I though we'd silenced it for good. But the smallest thing can wake the wind@ a word, a sign, even a death. There's no such thing as a trivial thing. Everything costs; it all adds up until finally the balance shifts and we're gone again, back on the road, telling ourselves - well maybe next time

Designers want me to dress like Spring, in billowing things. I don't feel like Spring. I feel like a warm red Autumn.

A ship does not sail with yesterday's wind.

Every year, I travel extensively in the autumn and the spring. I set most of the winter and summer aside for my family and my own tribal relatives. But during that traveling time, I often find myself visiting other native communities around the continent - perhaps a dozen or more each year.

Iris from sea brings wind or mighty rain.

Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees.... Are we not better and at home In dreamful Autumn, we who deem No harvest joy is worth a dream? A little while and night shall come, A little while, then, let us dream.

In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.

If I was ever a rare fine summer person, that's long ago. Most of us are half-and-half. The August noon in us works to stave off the November chills. We survive by what little Fourth of July wits we've stashed away. But there are times when we're all autumn people.

Divinity must live within herself: Passions of rain, or moods in the falling snow; Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued Elations when the forest blooms; gusty Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights; All pleasures and all pains, remembering The boughs of summer and the winter branch. These are the measures destined for her soul.

Thought is the wind, knowledge the sail, and mankind the vessel.

I am a feather for each wind that blows

I cannot predict the wind but I can have my sail ready.

Labor's face is wrinkled with the wind, and swarthy with the sun.

You know reviewers, they are the wind in their own sails.

When no wind blows, even the weathervane has character.

If you're having fun, you wind up innovating.

Rush to danger; wind up nowhere.

The wind is rising ... we must attempt to live.

Sorrow was like the wind. It came in gusts.

This wind is mystical yet tame, and it sings to me.

For me, the wind is the worst weather you can have to play football.

The wind doesn't bother me. I'm in the US Senate.

Give wind and tide a chance to change.

The earth's distances invite the eye. And as the eye reaches, so must the mind stretch to meet these new horizons. I challenge anyone to stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see a new expanse not only around him, but in him, too.

Words and feathers the wind carries away.

Love is like the wind, you can't see it but you can feel it.

Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.

Wind is one of the greatest scams of the modern age.

I see, when I bend close, how each leaflet of a climbing rose is bordered with frost, the autumn counterpart of the dewdrops of summer dawns. The feathery leaves of yarrow are thick with silver rime and dry thistle heads rise like goblets plated with silver catching the sun.

The Waystone was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn’s ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit Beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest, And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe; And all the daughters of the year shall dance! Sing now the lusty song of fruit and flowers.

I am the last leaf on the tree, and the wind is blowing.

The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.

When a gust of wind hits a broken bone, you feel it.

Wind is to us what money is to life on shore.

It's a fair wind that blew men to ale.

Every wind is fare when we are flying from misfortune.

Oklahoma Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain.

He got out of bed and peeped through the blinds. To the east and opposite to him gardens and an apple-orchard lay, and there in strange liquid tranquility hung the morning star, and rose, rilling into the dusk of night the first grey of dawn. The street beneath its autumn leaves was vacant, charmed, deserted.

If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection. It's a time of year when the leaves are down and the harvest is in and the perennials are gone. Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it's time to reflect on what's come before.

I take Energol to improve my wind and stamina.

An Isaac Mizrahi fashion-show ticket signed by Steven Meisel. I rushed up to Meisel at the end of the show and asked him to autograph the card that had his name and seating assignment on it. It was an incredible moment when he shot the autumn/winter 2014 Moschino campaign.

Just take yourself back to September 2001. As that month went on, and as that autumn unrolled, everybody wanted to do something. How can I help? Do you want my blood? Do you want money for the victims? I was a captain in the Marine Corps. I knew what I could do. I was right there. I was ready. I saw it. I moved the rubble with my own hands.

O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

Wind is caused by the trees waving their branches.

The wind is never for the sailor who knows not to what port he is bound.

I want to save my soul, that timid wind.

What, nephew, said the king, is the wind in that door?

We will stomp to the top with the wind in our teeth.

Always in Alberta there is a fresh wind blowing.

Dr. Everest, got up and gave us a little pep talk. Mostly it boiled down to the fact that it was autumn, and everyone was back, and while that was a great thing, people better not get cocky or misbehave or he'd personally kill us all. He didn't actually say those words, but that was the subtext.