“World-mothering air, air wild,
Wound with thee, in thee isled,
Fold home, fast fold thy child.”
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–1889) English poet
"The Blessed Virgin compared to the Air we Breathe", lines 124-126
Wessex Poems and Other Verses (1918)
" The Blessed Virgin compared to the Air we Breathe http://www.bartleby.com/122/37.html", lines 1-8 <br class="br">Wessex Poems and Other Verses (1918)
“World-mothering air, air wild,
Wound with thee, in thee isled,
Fold home, fast fold thy child.”
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–1889) English poet
"The Blessed Virgin compared to the Air we Breathe", lines 124-126
Wessex Poems and Other Verses (1918)
Sadhguru book Inner Engineering: A Yogi's Guide to Joy
Source: Inner Engineering: A Yogi's Guide to Joy
Robert G. Ingersoll (1833–1899) Union United States Army officer
Orthodoxy (1884).
Context: Love is the only bow on Life's dark cloud. It is the morning and the evening star. It shines upon the babe, and sheds its radiance on the quiet tomb. It is the mother of art, inspirer of poet, patriot and philosopher. It is the air and light of every heart — builder of every home, kindler of every fire on every hearth. It was the first to dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody — for music is the voice of love. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to Joy, and makes royal kings and queens of common clay. It is the perfume of that wondrous flower, the heart, and without that sacred passion, that divine swoon, we are less than beasts; but with it, earth is heaven, and we are gods.
“Passing through air.
You mix the stars with your arms.”
Kate Bush (1958) British recording artist; singer, songwriter, musician and record producer
Song lyrics, Singles and rarities
Context: Passing through air.
You mix the stars with your arms.
Walking through there.
The doom of eternity balms.
Skies of grey are not today.
“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) American philosopher, essayist, and poet
“Music is everywhere. It’s in the air between us, waiting to be sung.”
David Levithan (1972) American author and editor
Source: How They Met, and Other Stories