Quotes about breeze
page 2

Kate Havnevik photo

“Down the narrow streets
I can feel the breeze Feel the mroning bliss”

Kate Havnevik (1975) Norwegian singer-songwriter

Song lyrics

Karel Appel photo
Gerald Durrell photo

“Halfway up the slope, guarded by a group of tall, slim, cypress-trees, nestled a small strawberry-pink villa, like some exotic fruit lying in the greenery. The cypress-trees undulated gently in the breeze, as if they were busily painting the sky a still brighter blue for our arrival.
The villa was small and square, standing in its tiny garden with an air of pink-faced determination. Its shutters had been faded by the sun to a delicate creamy-green, cracked and bubbled in places. The garden, surrounded by tall fuschia hedges, had the flower beds worked in complicated geometrical patterns, marked with smooth white stones. The white cobbled paths, scarcely as wide as a rake's head, wound laboriously round beds hardly larger than a big straw hat, beds in the shape of stars, half-moons, triangles, and circles all overgrown with a shaggy tangle of flowers run wild. Roses dropped petals that seemed as big and smooth as saucers, flame-red, moon-white, glossy, and unwrinkled; marigolds like broods of shaggy suns stood watching their parent's progress through the sky. In the low growth the pansies pushed their velvety, innocent faces through the leaves, and the violets drooped sorrowfully under their heart-shaped leaves. The bougainvillaea that sprawled luxuriously over the tiny iron balcony was hung, as though for a carnival, with its lantern-shaped magenta flowers. In the darkness of the fuschia-hedge a thousand ballerina-like blooms quivered expectantly. The warm air was thick with the scent of a hundred dying flowers, and full of the gentle, soothing whisper and murmur of insects.”

My Family and Other Animals (1956)

“Housework is a breeze. Cooking is a pleasant diversion. Putting up a retaining wall is a lark. But teaching is like climbing a mountain.”

Fawn M. Brodie (1915–1981) American historian and biographer

Los Angeles Times Home Magazine (Feb. 20, 1977)

Nick Drake photo
Robert Frost photo

“She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when the sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease.”

Robert Frost (1874–1963) American poet

" The Silken Tent http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-silken-tent/" (1942)
1940s

Bruce Springsteen photo
Bai Juyi photo

“I lay my harp on the curved table,
Sitting there idly, filled only with emotions.
Why should I trouble to play?
A breeze will come and sweep the strings.”

Bai Juyi (772–846) Chinese poet of the Tang Dynasty

"The Harp", in The White Pony: An Anthology Of Chinese Poetry (1949), ed. Robert Payne, p. 220

Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo
Pete Doherty photo
Sengai photo

“He who comes knows only his coming,
He who goes knows only his end.
To be saved from the chasm,
Why cling to the cliff?
Clouds floating low
Never know where the breezes will blow them.”

Sengai (1750–1837) Japanese artist

Japanese Death Poems. Compiled by Yoel Hoffmann. ISBN 978-0-8048-3179-6

William Cullen Bryant photo

“And the blue gentian flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.”

William Cullen Bryant (1794–1878) American romantic poet and journalist

November. A Sonnet http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16341/16341-h/16341-h.htm#page74 (1824)

Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo

“How sweet on the breeze of the evening swells
The vesper call of those soothing bells,
Borne softly and dying in echoes away,
Like a requiem sung to the parting day.”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

(22nd September 1821) Bells
The London Literary Gazette, 1821-1822

Paula Modersohn-Becker photo
Curtis Mayfield photo
Ralph Waldo Emerson photo

“By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) American philosopher, essayist, and poet

Hymn sung at the Completion of the Battle Monument
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)

Helen Hunt Jackson photo
Roberto Clemente photo

“blockquote>Quien Soy? (Who Am I?)I am a small point in the eye of the full moon.
I only need one ray of the sun to warm my face.
I need only one breeze from the Alisios to refresh my soul.
What else can I ask if I know that my sons love really love me?.”

Roberto Clemente (1934–1972) Puerto Rican baseball player

Written on Father's Day at Three Rivers Stadium, 1971 or 1972, reproduced in "A Rematch With the Machine" https://books.google.com/books?id=03XsO25A3I8C&pg=PA302 from Roberto Clemente: The Great One (1998) by Bruce Markusen, p. 302
Other, <big><big>1970s</big></big>, <big>1971</big>

“Their words were spoken to the breezes nor swayed appointed fate.”
Dicta dabant ventis nec debita fata movebant.

Source: Argonautica, Book V, Line 21

Nasreddin photo
Robert Frost photo

“The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.”

Robert Frost (1874–1963) American poet

" Out, Out — http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/out-out-2/"
1910s

Vitruvius photo
Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon photo

“…the wild flowers blooming in hushed solitude
Start not at the whispering, 'tis but the breeze”

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon (1829–1879) Canadian writer

from A Canadian Summer Evening

Claude Debussy photo

“Music expresses the motion of the waters, the play of curves described by changing breezes.”

Claude Debussy (1862–1918) French composer

As quoted in The Twentieth Century (1972) by Caroline Farrar Ware, p. 222
Variant translation: Music is the expression of the movement of the waters, the play of curves described by changing breezes.

Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo
Joe Hill photo
Vitruvius photo
Gary Snyder photo
Sören Kierkegaard photo

“After a considerable walk through the forest, where I became acquainted with several of the little lakes I am so fond of, I came to Hestehaven and Lake Carl. Here is one of the most beautiful regions I have ever seen. The countryside is somewhat isolated and slopes steeply down to the lake, but with the beech forests growing on either side, it is not barren. A growth of rushes forms the background and the lake itself the foreground; a fairly large part of the lake is clear, but a still larger part is overgrown with the large green leaves of the waterlily, under which the fish seemingly try to hide but now and then peek out and flounder about on the surface in order to bathe in sunshine. The land rises on the opposite side, a great beech forest, and in the morning light the lighted areas make a marvelous contrast to the shadowed areas. The church bells call to prayer, but not in a temple made by human hands. If the birds do not need to be reminded to praise God, then ought men not be moved to prayer outside of the church, in the true house of God, where heaven's arch forms the ceiling of the church, where the roar of the storm and the light breezes take the place of the organ's bass and treble, where the singing of the birds make up the congregational hymns of praise, where echo does not repeat the pastor's voice as in the arch of the stone church, but where everything resolves itself in an endless antiphony — Hillerød, July 25, 1835”

Sören Kierkegaard (1813–1855) Danish philosopher and theologian, founder of Existentialism

1830s, The Journals of Søren Kierkegaard, 1830s

“Half the campus was designed by Bottom the Weaver, half by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe; Benton had been endowed with one to begin with, and had smiled and sweated and and spoken for the other. A visitor looked under black beams, through leaded casements (past apple boughs, past box, past chairs like bath-tubs on broomsticks) to a lawn ornamented with one of the statues of David Smith; in the months since the figure had been put in its place a shrike had deserted for it a neighboring thorn tree, and an archer had skinned her leg against its farthest spike. On the table in the President’s waiting-room there were copies of Town and Country, the Journal of the History of Ideas, and a small magazine—a little magazine—that had no name. One walked by a mahogany hat-rack, glanced at the coat of arms on an umbrella-stand, and brushed with one’s sleeve something that gave a ghostly tinkle—four or five black and orange ellipsoids, set on grey wires, trembled in the faint breeze of the air-conditioning unit: a mobile. A cloud passed over the sun, and there came trailing from the gymnasium, in maillots and blue jeans, a melancholy procession, four dancers helping to the infirmary a friend who had dislocated her shoulder in the final variation of The Eye of Anguish.”

Source: Pictures from an Institution (1954) [novel], Chapter 1: “The President, Mrs., and Derek Robbins”, p. 3; opening paragraph of novel

Reginald Heber photo

“What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile.”

Reginald Heber (1783–1826) English clergyman

Missionary Hymn ("Java" in one version); reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 487.
Hymns

Emily Dickinson photo
Willa Cather photo
Evelyn Waugh photo
Arthur Koestler photo
Bion of Borysthenes photo
Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo
Hartley Coleridge photo
Jimmy Buffett photo
Anthony Burgess photo
Joseph Addison photo

“A thousand trills and quivering sounds
In airy circles o'er us fly,
Till, wafted by a gentle breeze,
They faint and languish by degrees,
And at a distance die.”

Joseph Addison (1672–1719) politician, writer and playwright

Ode on St. Cecilia's Day (1699), st. 6.

Gottfried Helnwein photo
Walter Scott photo

“Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea.
The orange flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is on the sea.”

Quentin Durward, Chap. iv.
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)

Glen Cook photo

““Used to be” is not worth the breeze on which it is scribbled.”

Source: Soldiers Live (2000), Chapter 2, “An Abode of Ravens: When the Baobhas Sang” (p. 368)

Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo

“A weight is on the air, for ev'ry breeze
Has, bird-like, folded up its wings for sleep.”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

The Ancestress (Spoken by Bertha)
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)

Yasunari Kawabata photo
Dane Cook photo
Van Morrison photo
Jean Paul Sartre photo
Kenneth Grahame photo
Cat Stevens photo

“"Peace Train" is a song I wrote, the message of which continues to breeze thunderously through the hearts of millions. There is a powerful need for people to feel that gust of hope rise up again. As a member of humanity and as a Muslim, this is my contribution to the call for a peaceful solution.”

Cat Stevens (1948) British singer-songwriter

"Yusuf Islam Takes Stance for Peace" by Ali Asadullah at IslamOnline http://www.islamonline.net/servlet/Satellite?c=Article_C&pagename=Zone-English-ArtCulture%2FACELayout&cid=1158658359693

James Thomas Fields photo
Charlotte Brontë photo
Evelyn Waugh photo
Philip Pullman photo
Robin Maugham photo
Mike Oldfield photo
Jim Morrison photo
John Harvey Kellogg photo
Francesco Petrarca photo

“Blessed in sleep and satisfied to languish, to embrace shadows, and to pursue the summer breeze, I swim through a sea that has no floor or shore, I plow the waves and found my house on sand and write on the wind.”

Beato in sogno et di languir contento,
d'abbracciar l'ombre et seguir l'aura estiva,
nuoto per mar che non à fondo o riva,
solco onde, e 'n rena fondo, et scrivo in vento.
Canzone 212, st. 1
Il Canzoniere (c. 1351–1353), To Laura in Life

Halldór Laxness photo
Thomas Dunn English photo

“That was a day of delight and wonder.
While lying the shade of the maple trees under—
He felt the soft breeze at its frolicksome play;
He smelled the sweet odor of newly mown hay.”

Thomas Dunn English (1819–1902) American state and federal politician

Under the Trees, reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 494.

Francis Thompson photo

“The hills look over on the South,
And Southward dreams the sea;
And with the sea-breeze hand in hand,
Came innocence and she.”

Francis Thompson (1859–1907) British poet

Daisy http://www.bartleby.com/103/26.html (1893), st. 2.

Bob Dylan photo
Emma Lazarus photo

“Then Nature shaped a poet's heart — a lyre
From out whose chords the lightest breeze that blows
Drew trembling music.”

Emma Lazarus (1849–1887) American poet

Chopin http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chopin/, IV

Jeremy Clarkson photo
Simon Armitage photo
Raymond Loewy photo
Rigoberto González photo
Sarvajna photo
Pierre Teilhard De Chardin photo

“A breeze passes in the night. When did it spring up? Whence does it come? Whither is it going? No man knows.”

Pierre Teilhard De Chardin (1881–1955) French philosopher and Jesuit priest

The Divine Milieu, p. 128
The Divine Milieu (1960)

Bruno Schulz photo
Bob Dylan photo
Edmund Burke photo

“Permit me, Sir, to add another circumstance in our colonies, which contributes no mean part towards the growth and effect of this untractable spirit. I mean their education. In no country perhaps in the world is the law so general a study. The profession itself is numerous and powerful; and in most provinces it takes the lead. The greater number of the deputies sent to the congress were lawyers. But all who read, and most do read, endeavour to obtain some smattering in that science. I have been told by an eminent bookseller, that in no branch of his business, after tracts of popular devotion, were so many books as those on the law exported to the plantations. The colonists have now fallen into the way of printing them for their own use. I hear that they have sold nearly as many of Blackstone's Commentaries in America as in England. General Gage marks out this disposition very particularly in a letter on your table. He states, that all the people in his government are lawyers, or smatterers in law; and that in Boston they have been enabled, by successful chicane, wholly to evade many parts of one of your capital penal constitutions. The smartness of debate will say, that this knowledge ought to teach them more clearly the rights of legislature, their obligations to obedience, and the penalties of rebellion. All this is mighty well. But my honourable and learned friend on the floor, who condescends to mark what I say for animadversion, will disdain that ground. He has heard, as well as I, that when great honours and great emoluments do not win over this knowledge to the service of the state, it is a formidable adversary to government. If the spirit be not tamed and broken by these happy methods, it is stubborn and litigious. Abeunt studia in mores. This study renders men acute, inquisitive, dexterous, prompt in attack, ready in defence, full of resources. In other countries, the people, more simple, and of a less mercurial cast, judge of an ill principle in government only by an actual grievance; here they anticipate the evil, and judge of the pressure of the grievance by the badness of the principle. They augur misgovernment at a distance; and snuff the approach of tyranny in every tainted breeze.”

Edmund Burke (1729–1797) Anglo-Irish statesman

Second Speech on Conciliation with America (1775)

Kenneth Grahame photo

“A bird piped suddenly, and was still; and a light breeze sprang up and set the reeds and bulrushes rustling.”

Source: The Wind in the Willows (1908), Ch. 7
Context: A bird piped suddenly, and was still; and a light breeze sprang up and set the reeds and bulrushes rustling. Rat, who was in the stern of the boat, while Mole sculled, sat up suddenly and listened with a passionate intentness. Mole, who with gentle strokes was just keeping the boat moving while he scanned the banks with care, looked at him with curiosity.
'It's gone!' sighed the Rat, sinking back in his seat again. 'So beautiful and strange and new. Since it was to end so soon, I almost wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is pain, and nothing seems worth while but just to hear that sound once more and go on listening to it for ever. No! There it is again!' he cried, alert once more. Entranced, he was silent for a long space, spellbound.
'Now it passes on and I begin to lose it,' he said presently. 'O Mole! the beauty of it! The merry bubble and joy, the thin, clear, happy call of the distant piping! Such music I never dreamed of, and the call in it is stronger even than the music is sweet! Row on, Mole, row! For the music and the call must be for us.'
The Mole, greatly wondering, obeyed. 'I hear nothing myself,' he said, 'but the wind playing in the reeds and rushes and osiers.

Lucy Larcom photo

“This is a haunted world. It hath no breeze
But is the echo of some voice beloved”

Lucy Larcom (1824–1893) American teacher, poet, author

Introductory poem.
Poems (1869)
Context: This is a haunted world. It hath no breeze
But is the echo of some voice beloved:
Its pines have human tones; its billows wear
The color and the sparkle of dear eyes.
Its flowers are sweet with touch of tender hands
That once clasped ours. All things are beautiful
Because of something lovelier than themselves,
Which breathes within them, and will never die. —
Haunted,—but not with any spectral gloom;
Earth is suffused, inhabited by heaven.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson photo
Abraham Joshua Heschel photo

“A shift of conceptions, boisterous like a tempest of soft as a breeze may swerve a mind for an instant or forever. For God is not wholly silent and man is not always deaf.”

Abraham Joshua Heschel (1907–1972) Polish-American Conservative Judaism Rabbi

"The Holy Dimension", p. 333
Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity: Essays (1997)
Context: Faith is not a thing that comes into being out of nothing. It originates in an event. In the spiritual vacancy of life something may suddenly occur that is like the lifting of a veil at the horizon of knowledge. A simple episode may open sight of the eternal. A shift of conceptions, boisterous like a tempest of soft as a breeze may swerve a mind for an instant or forever. For God is not wholly silent and man is not always deaf. God's willingness to call men to His service and man's responsiveness to the divine indications in things and events are for faith what sun and soil are for the plant.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson photo
Aeschylus photo
Nikos Kazantzakis photo

“This is how the spirit comes. After the gale, the earthquake, and fire: a gentle, cooling breeze. This is how it will come in our own day as well. We are passing through the period of earthquake, the fire is approaching, and eventually (when? after how many generations?) the gentle, cool breeze will blow.”

"The Desert. Sinai.", Ch. 21, p. 278
Report to Greco (1965)
Context: "Tomorrow, go forth and stand before the Lord. A great and strong wind will blow over you and rend the mountains and break in pieces the rocks, but the Lord will not be in the wind. And after the wind and earthquake, but the Lord will not be in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord will not be in the fire. And after the fire a gentle, cooling breeze. That is where the Lord will be."
This is how the spirit comes. After the gale, the earthquake, and fire: a gentle, cooling breeze. This is how it will come in our own day as well. We are passing through the period of earthquake, the fire is approaching, and eventually (when? after how many generations?) the gentle, cool breeze will blow.

George H. W. Bush photo

“The new breeze blows, a page turns, the story unfolds. And so today a chapter begins, a small and stately story of unity, diversity, and generosity — shared, and written, together.”

George H. W. Bush (1924–2018) American politician, 41st President of the United States

Inaugural Address (1989)
Context: I do not mistrust the future; I do not fear what is ahead. For our problems are large, but our heart is larger. Our challenges are great, but our will is greater. And if our flaws are endless, God's love is truly boundless.
Some see leadership as high drama, and the sound of trumpets calling, and sometimes it is that. But I see history as a book with many pages, and each day we fill a page with acts of hopefulness and meaning. The new breeze blows, a page turns, the story unfolds. And so today a chapter begins, a small and stately story of unity, diversity, and generosity &mdash; shared, and written, together.

Lucy Larcom photo

“Richer am I than he who owns
Great fleets and argosies;
I have a share in every ship
Won by the inland breeze”

Lucy Larcom (1824–1893) American teacher, poet, author

Poems (1869), A Strip of Blue (1870)
Context: Richer am I than he who owns
Great fleets and argosies;
I have a share in every ship
Won by the inland breeze,
To loiter on yon airy road
Above the apple-trees.
I freight them with my untold dreams;
Each bears my own picked crew;
And nobler cargoes wait for them
Than ever India knew, —
My ships that sail into the East
Across that outlet blue.

Haruki Murakami photo

“We can, if we so choose, wander aimlessly over the continent of the arbitrary. Rootless as some winged seed blown about on a serendipitous spring breeze.”

Haruki Murakami (1949) Japanese author, novelist

Source: A Wild Sheep Chase: A Novel (1982), Chapter 10, Counting Sheep
Context: We can, if we so choose, wander aimlessly over the continent of the arbitrary. Rootless as some winged seed blown about on a serendipitous spring breeze. Nonetheless, we can in the same breath deny that there is any such thing as coincidence. What's done is done, what's yet to be is clearly yet to be. In other words, sandwiched as we are between the "everything" that is behind us and the "zero" beyond us, ours is an ephemeral existence in which there is neither coincidence nor possibility. In actual practice, however, distinctions between the two interpretations amount to precious little. A state of affairs (as with most face-offs between interpretations) not unlike calling the same food by two different names. So much for metaphors.

Ogden Nash photo

“There are two kinds of people who blow through life like a breeze,
And one kind is gossipers, and the other kind is gossipees,
And they certainly annoy each other,
But they certainly enjoy each other”

Ogden Nash (1902–1971) American poet

I'm a Stranger Here Myself (1938), I Have It On Good Authority
Context: There are two kinds of people who blow through life like a breeze,
And one kind is gossipers, and the other kind is gossipees,
And they certainly annoy each other,
But they certainly enjoy each other,
Yes, they pretend to flout each other,
But they couldn't do without each other...

Theocritus photo

“Look, still is the sea and still are the breezes; but the pain in my heart is not still.”

Theocritus ancient greek poet

Idyll 2, lines 38-39
Idylls

Henri Nouwen photo

“In prayer, you encounter God not only in the small voice and the soft breeze, but also in the midst of the turmoil of the world, in the distress and joy of your neighbor and in the loneliness of your own heart.”

Henri Nouwen (1932–1996) Dutch priest and writer

With Open Hands (1972)
Context: To pray means to open your hands before God. It means slowly relaxing the tension which squeezes your hands together and accepting your existence with an increasing readiness, not as a possession to defend, but as a gift to receive. Above all, prayer is a way of life which allows you to find a stillness in the midst of the world where you open your hands to God’s promises and find hope for yourself, your neighbor and your world. In prayer, you encounter God not only in the small voice and the soft breeze, but also in the midst of the turmoil of the world, in the distress and joy of your neighbor and in the loneliness of your own heart.

George H. W. Bush photo

“A new breeze is blowing, and a nation refreshed by freedom stands ready to push on. There is new ground to be broken, and new action to be taken. There are times when the future seems thick as a fog; you sit and wait, hoping the mists will lift and reveal the right path. But this is a time when the future seems a door you can walk right through into a room called tomorrow.”

George H. W. Bush (1924–2018) American politician, 41st President of the United States

Inaugural Address (1989)
Context: I come before you and assume the Presidency at a moment rich with promise. We live in a peaceful, prosperous time, but we can make it better. For a new breeze is blowing, and a world refreshed by freedom seems reborn; for in man's heart, if not in fact, the day of the dictator is over. The totalitarian era is passing, its old ideas blown away like leaves from an ancient, lifeless tree. A new breeze is blowing, and a nation refreshed by freedom stands ready to push on. There is new ground to be broken, and new action to be taken. There are times when the future seems thick as a fog; you sit and wait, hoping the mists will lift and reveal the right path. But this is a time when the future seems a door you can walk right through into a room called tomorrow.
Great nations of the world are moving toward democracy through the door to freedom. Men and women of the world move toward free markets through the door to prosperity. The people of the world agitate for free expression and free thought through the door to the moral and intellectual satisfactions that only liberty allows.
We know what works: Freedom works. We know what's right: Freedom is right. We know how to secure a more just and prosperous life for man on Earth: through free markets, free speech, free elections, and the exercise of free will unhampered by the state.

Albert Pike photo

“Life, to him, flashes, rejoicing, upon every flower and every tree that trembles in the breeze. There is more to him, everywhere, than the eye sees; a presence of profound joy, on hill and valley, and bright, dancing water.”

Source: Morals and Dogma of the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry (1871), Ch. XXII : Grand Master Architect, p. 193
Context: Life is what we make it, and the world is what we make it. The eyes of the cheerful and of the melancholy man are fixed upon the same creation; but very different are the aspects which it bears to them. To the one, it is all beauty and gladness; the waves of ocean roll in light, and the mountains are covered with day. Life, to him, flashes, rejoicing, upon every flower and every tree that trembles in the breeze. There is more to him, everywhere, than the eye sees; a presence of profound joy, on hill and valley, and bright, dancing water. The other idly or mournfully gazes at the same scene, and everything wears a dull, dim, and sickly aspect. The murmuring of the brooks is a discord to him, the great roar of the sea has an angry and threatening emphasis, the solemn music of the pines sings the requiem of his departed happiness, the cheerful light shines garishly upon his eyes and offends him. The great train of the seasons passes before him like a funeral procession; and he sighs, and turns impatiently away. The eye makes that which it looks upon; the ear makes its own melodies and discords: the world without reflects the world within.