Top 1200 Autumn Wind Quotes & Sayings - Page 5

It's autumn and everybody feels like a disembodied spirit then.

Times like this, with the wind moving the grass and curling around her like a huge cool hand, Tess felt the world as a second presence, as another person, as if the wind and the grass had voices of their own and she could hear them talking.

I stood checked for a moment - awe, not fear, fell upon me - and whist I stood, a solemn wind began to blow, the most mournful that ever ear heard. Mournful! That is saying nothing. It was a wind that had swept the fields of mortality for a hundred centuries.

What does autumn go on paying for with so much yellow money?

Incredibly, oil and gas companies don't have to pay certain environmental costs that amount to small change to them, while an offshore wind project start-up is faced with fees that could mean the difference between building a wind farm and packing up and going home.

An autumn night - don’t think your life didn’t matter.

Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.

Part of you is the wind,” he murmured. “Oui, that is true. But even the wind sometimes rests.” Shaking her head, she slid her hand around the back of his neck, soaking in the intrinsically male heat of his skin. “Then consider me an endless storm.

One time or another we all face adversity's chilling wind. One man flees from it, and like an unresisting kite falls to the ground. Another yields no retreating inch, and the wind that would destroy him lifts him as readily to the heights. We are not measured by the trials we meet, only by those we overcome.

Autumn in my garden is when trees give their tickertape welcome to winter.

And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood.

Fake friends are like autumn leaves, they're scattered everywhere.

She looked like autumn, when leaves turned and fruit ripened.

As the waves of perfume, heliotrope, rose, Float in the garden when no wind blows, Come to us, go from us, whence no one knows; So the old tunes float in my mind, And go from me leaving no trace behind, Like fragrance borne on the hush of the wind.

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!

The wind outside nested in each tree, prowled the sidewalks in invisible treads like unseen cats. Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows' Eve. Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet or gold or orange velvet. Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys like the plumes of funeral parades. From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.

I used to think Cape Wind was a great idea. That was when Ted Kennedy was alive and railing about how he might spill his Chivas if he had to keep maneuvering the Mya around all those noisy seagull-murdering wind turbines. Anything Ted Kennedy was against, I was for.

Bulb: potential flower buried in Autumn, never to be seen again.

You could hear the wind in the leaves, and on that wind traveled the screams of the kids on the playground in the distance, little kids figuring out how to be alive, how to navigate a world that wasn't made for them by navigating a playground that was.

Autumn is a season followed immediately by looking forward to spring.

While cares will drop off like autumn leaves.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

When the autumn meets the tranquillity, there you can see the King of the Sceneries!

Sunlight is like the breath of life to the pomp of autumn.

Slamming the book shut produces a wind on the face, a weather that is copyrighted by the author, and this wind may not be deployed without permission, nor may the pages be turned without express written permission.

Autumn, in his leafless bowers, is waiting for the winter's snow.

Dawn crept over the Downs like a sinister white animal, followed by the snarling cries of a wind eating its way between the black boughs of the thorns. The wind was the furious voice of this sluggish animal light that was baring the dormers and mullions and scullions of Cold Comfort Farm.

Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze. Gaining and failing they are buffeted by a dark wind - But what? On harsh weedstalks the flock has rested - the snow is covered with broken seed husks and the wind tempered with a shrill piping of plenty.

South Carolina is in the spring a paradise, in the summer a hell, and in the autumn a hospital.

We must not think too unkindly even of the east wind. It is not, perhaps, a wind to be loved, even in its benignest moods; but there are seasons when I delight to feel its breath upon my cheek, though it be never advisable to throw open my bosom and take it into my heart, as I would its gentle sisters of the south and west.

The duende....Where is the duende? Through the empty archway a wind of the spirit enters, blowing insistently over the heads of the dead, in search of new landscapes and unknown accents: a wind with the odour of a child's saliva, crushed grass, and medusa's veil, announcing the endless baptism of freshly created things.

If you had a robot out here calculating all the variables, I think you could potentially get really close to perfection, but from a human perspective, there's no way to understand all the wind. The wind is the biggest variable, and the grass length is the second biggest variable that we just don't have control over and never will.

I notice that Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.

There is no season such delight can bring, as summer, autumn, winter and the spring.

Winter is dead; spring is crazy; summer is cheerful and autumn is wise!

"It is typical of Oxford," I said, "to start the new year in autumn."

Swimming in the cold and the dark of British autumn is not for the faint-hearted.

The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away.

Parting is a training streamer,Lingering like leaves in autumn.

Strong jealousy in a beautiful love is the autumn in the middle of a hot summer!

In autumn, when the leaves are brown, Take pen and ink, and write it down.

Spring blossoms are fairy tales, autumn leaves are tragic dramas.

I got my private pilot's license in autumn 1986.

A freshet in the autumn does not compensate for a drought in the spring.

On a bare branch a crow is perched - autumn evening

And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.

Ziri's soul felt like the high roaming wind of the Adelphas Mountains and the beat of stormhunters' wings, like the beautiful, mournful, eternal song of the wind flutes that had filled their caves with music he could not possibly remember. It felt like home.

Even the air feels different on Halloween, autumn-crisp and bright.

To live as I incline, or not to live at all: so do I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas! how have I still - inclination? Have I-still a goal? A haven towards which MY sail is set?A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth WHITHER he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and a fair wind for him.What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and flippant; and unstable will; fluttering wings; a broken backbone.This seeking for MY home: O Zarathustra, dost thou know that this seeking hath been MY home-sickening; it eateth me up.

Dancing of the autumn leaves on the surface of a lake is a dream we see when we are awake!

Autumn in New York, why does it seem so inviting?

Spiders are always big in the autumn: they've had all summer to grow.

My favourite season is autumn, and I love walking through woods.

Of all the seasons, autumn offers the most to man and requires the least of him.

How many roads must a man walk down Before your can call him a man? . . . The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind.

My life's long radiant Summer halts at last, And lo! beside my path way I behold Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold Has heralded her presence; but a vast Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold Subdues the vivid colouring of bold And passion-hued emotions. I will cast My August days behind me with my May, Nor strive to drag them into Autumn's place, Nor swear I hope when I do but remember. Now violet and rose have had their day, I'll pluck the soberer asters with good grace And call September nothing but September.

A child walked by, rolling a metal hoop that made a sound of autumn.

An oak and a reed were arguing about their strength. When a strong wind came up, the reed avoided being uprooted by bending and leaning with the gusts of wind. But the oak stood firm and was torn up by the roots.

The dust cannot fight against the wind; the wind cannot fight against the mountain. Everything and everyone has a battle to lose!