Quotes about wind
page 6

Wallace Stevens photo
Ted Hughes photo
Robert Frost photo

“He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.”

Robert Frost (1874–1963) American poet

St. 3
1920s, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (1923)

Poul Anderson photo
Bruce Springsteen photo
Vitruvius photo
Karel Appel photo

“That is what he used to do, what he is doing now for the last hears. He is the only painter who paints like that.... like the wind, like the ocean, like the light, like the sunlight, like the moonlight, far away from everything, without any image..”

Karel Appel (1921–2006) Dutch painter, sculptor, and poet

quotes from Appel's poem '..and now I want to talk about Willem de Kooning, February 1990 http://beeldgedicht.info/Reprocitaat/appel-kooning.htm

Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo
Natalie Merchant photo
Isa Genzken photo
William Morris photo
Isa Genzken photo
Poul Anderson photo
Robert Oppenheimer photo
Guillaume Apollinaire photo

“We hurry since everything hurries
And I shall never not return
Memories are all archaic horns
Silenced by the wind.”

Passons passons puisque tout passe
Je me retournerai souvent
Les souvenirs sont cors de chasse
Dont meurt le bruit parmi le vent
"Cors de chasse" (Hunting Horns), line 9; translation from Donald Revell (trans.) Alcools (Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press, 1995) p. 159.
Alcools (1912)

T.S. Eliot photo
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow photo
Henryk Sienkiewicz photo
Julia Abigail Fletcher Carney photo

“How oft the word which we would gladly speak
Might be, unto some darkly groping soul,
The key to bid doubt's massive doors unroll,
The free winds' breath upon the prisoner's cheek,
Or. to the hungry heart, sweet pity's dole!
We hurry on, nor know that they are near,
As passed Evangeline the one so dear.”

Julia Abigail Fletcher Carney (1823–1908) American writer

"Soul Blindness", as quoted Our Woman Workers: Biographical Sketches of Women Eminent in the Universalist Church for Literary, Philanthropic and Christian Work (1881) by E. R. Hanson.

Vincent Van Gogh photo

“What a queer thing touch is, the stroke of the brush. In the open air, exposed to wind, to sun, to the curiosity of the people, you work as you can, you feel your canvas anyhow... But when after a time you take up again this study and arrange your brush strokes in the direction of the objects - certainly it is more harmonious and pleasant to look at, and you add whatever you have of serenity and cheerfulness.”

Vincent Van Gogh (1853–1890) Dutch post-Impressionist painter (1853-1890)

Quote in his letter to brother Theo, from Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, 10 Sept. 1889; as quoted in Vincent van Gogh, edited by Alfred H. Barr; Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1935 https://www.moma.org/documents/moma_catalogue_1996_300061887.pdf, (letter 605), pp. 33-34
1880s, 1889

Rod Serling photo
Emily Brontë photo
Nadine Gordimer photo
Gwendolyn Brooks photo
Robert Frost photo
Li Yu (Southern Tang) photo
James Macpherson photo
Charles Darwin photo

“But I was very unwilling to give up my belief; I feel sure of this, for I can well remember often and often inventing day-dreams of old letters between distinguished Romans, and manuscripts being discovered at Pompeii or elsewhere, which confirmed in the most striking manner all that was written in the Gospels. But I found it more and more difficult, with free scope given to my imagination, to invent evidence which would suffice to convince me. Thus disbelief crept over me at a very slow rate, but was at last complete. The rate was so slow that I felt no distress.Although I did not think much about the existence of a personal God until a considerably later period of my life, I will here give the vague conclusions to which I have been driven. The old argument from design in Nature, as given by Paley, which formerly seemed to me so conclusive, fails, now that the law of natural selection has been discovered. We can no longer argue that, for instance, the beautiful hinge of a bivalve shell must have been made by an intelligent being, like the hinge of a door by man. There seems to be no more design in the variability of organic beings, and in the action of natural selection, than in the course which the wind blows. But I have discussed this subject at the end of my book on the Variation of Domesticated Animals and Plants, and the argument there given has never, as far as I can see, been answered.”

Charles Darwin (1809–1882) British naturalist, author of "On the origin of species, by means of natural selection"

volume I, chapter VIII: "Religion", pages 308-309 http://darwin-online.org.uk/content/frameset?pageseq=326&itemID=F1452.1&viewtype=image

Francis Darwin calls these "extracts, somewhat abbreviated, from a part of the Autobiography, written in 1876". The original version is presented below.
The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin (1887)
Variant: p>But I was very unwilling to give up my belief;—I feel sure of this for I can well remember often and often inventing day-dreams of old letters between distinguished Romans and manuscripts being discovered at Pompeii or elsewhere which confirmed in the most striking manner all that was written in the Gospels. But I found it more and more difficult, with free scope given to my imagination, to invent evidence which would suffice to convince me. Thus disbelief crept over me at a very slow rate, but was at last complete. The rate was so slow that I felt no distress, and have never since doubted even for a single second that my conclusion was correct. I can indeed hardly see how anyone ought to wish Christianity to be true; for if so the plain language of the text seems to show that the men who do not believe, and this would include my Father, Brother and almost all my best friends, will be everlastingly punished.And this is a damnable doctrine.Although I did not think much about the existence of a personal God until a considerably later period of my life, I will here give the vague conclusions to which I have been driven. The old argument of design in nature, as given by Paley, which formerly seemed to me so conclusive, fails, now that the law of natural selection has been discovered. We can no longer argue that, for instance, the beautiful hinge of a bivalve shell must have been made by an intelligent being, like the hinge of a door by man. There seems to be no more design in the variability of organic beings and in the action of natural selection, than in the course which the wind blows. Everything in nature is the result of fixed laws. But I have discussed this subject at the end of my book on the Variation of Domesticated Animals and Plants, and the argument there given has never, as far as I can see, been answered.</p

“Your honoured letter regarding suppression of the Jats has arrived. Allah is merciful, and it is hoped that he will crush the enemy. You should rest assured… You should forge unity with Musa Khan and other Muslim groups, and put to use this friendship and unity for facing the enemies. I hope for sure that on account of this unity among Muslims and their nobility, victory will be achieved.
The reason for the rise of enemies and the fall of Muslims is nothing except that, led by their lower nature, Muslims have shared their (Muslims’) concerns with Hindus. It is obvious that Hindus will not tolerate the suppression of non-Muslims. Being farsighted and practising patience are praiseworthy things, but not to the extent that non-Muslims take possession of Muslim cities, and go on occupying one (such) city every day… This is no time for farsightedness and patience. This is the time for putting trust in Allah, for manifesting the might of the sword, and for arousing the Muslim sense of honour. If you will do that, it is possible that winds of favour will start blowing. Whatever this recluse knows is this that war with the Jats is a magic spell which appears fearful at first but which, if you depend fully on the power of Allah and draw His attention towards this (war), will turn out to be no more than a mere show. Let me hope that you will keep me informed of developments and the faring of your arms…”

Shah Waliullah Dehlawi (1703–1762) Indian muslim scholar

To Taj Muhammad Khan Baluch Translated from the Urdu version of K.A. Nizami, Shãh Walîullah Dehlvî ke Siyãsî Maktûbãt, Second Edition, Delhi, 1969, pp. 150-51.
From his letters

Conor Oberst photo
Anne Morrow Lindbergh photo
Horatio Nelson photo

“I cannot command winds and weather.”

Horatio Nelson (1758–1805) Royal Navy Admiral

As quoted in Letters and Despatches of Horatio, Viscount Nelson, K.B. (1886) edited by John Knox Laughton, p. 99
1800s

Tim Powers photo
Ursula K. Le Guin photo
Dorothy Wordsworth photo

“One only leaf upon the top of a tree - the sole remaining leaf - danced round and round like a rag blown by the wind.”

Dorothy Wordsworth (1771–1855) English author, poet and diarist

March 7, 1798
This was turned into Coleridge's Christabel, lines 48-50:
There is not wind enough to twirl
The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
That dances as often as dance it can.
Diaries

Steve Kilbey photo
Lewis Mumford photo

“A certain amount of opposition is a great help to a man. Kites rise against, not with, the wind. Even a head wind is better than none. No man ever worked his passage anywhere in a dead calm.”

Lewis Mumford (1895–1990) American historian, sociologist, philosopher of technology, and literary critic

John Neal, as quoted in The Journal of Education for Upper Canada Vol. III (1850)
Misattributed

Oliver Goldsmith photo
Muhammad photo

“The example of a believer is like a fresh tender plant; from whichever direction the wind blows, it bends the plant. But when the wind dies down, (it) straightens up again.”

Muhammad (570–632) Arabian religious leader and the founder of Islam

Fiqh-us-Sunnah, Volume 4, Number 1
Sunni Hadith

Clive Staples Lewis photo
Isa Genzken photo
Thomas Bailey Aldrich photo
Frederick Douglass photo
Joanna Newsom photo

“Now the towns and forests, highways and plains,
fall back in circles like an emptying drain.
And I won't come round this way again,
where the lonely wind abides,
and you will not take my heart, alive.”

Joanna Newsom (1982) American musician

You Will Not Take My Heart Alive
Divers https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Divers_(Joanna_Newsom_album) (2015)

Mario Cuomo photo
Gabrielle Roy photo
T.S. Eliot photo
Israel Zangwill photo
Eleanor Farjeon photo

“Bugsby's reach is long as time,
His reach is wide as wind is,
He can pick you nettles in Greenwich Marsh
And docks in the East Indies.”

Eleanor Farjeon (1881–1965) English children's writer

Bugsby's Reach
More Nursery Rhymes of London Town (1917)

Richard Rodríguez photo

“Thud. My eyes are open. It is four-thirty in the morning, one morning, and my dry eyes click in their sockets, awake before the birds. There is no light. The eye strains for logic, some play of form. I have been dreaming of wind. The tree outside my window stands silent. I listen to the breathing of the man lying beside me. I know where I am. I am awake. I am alive. Am I tethered to earth only by this fragile breath? A strawful of breath at best. Yet this is the breath that patients beg, their hands gripping the edges of mattresses; this is the breath that wrestles trees, that brings down all the leaves in the Third Act. We know where the car is parked. We know, word-for-word, the texts of plays. We have spoken, in proximity to one another, over years, sentences, hundreds of thousands of sentences—bright, grave, fallible, comic, perishable—perhaps eternal? I don’t know. Where does the wind go? When will the light come? We will have hotcakes for breakfast. How can I protect this...? My church teaches me I cannot. And I believe it. I turn the pillow to its cool side. Then rage fills me, against the cubist necessity of having to arrange myself comically against orthodoxy, against having to wonder if I will offend, against theology that devises that my feeling for him, more than for myself, is a vanity. My brown paradox: The church that taught me to understand love, the church that taught me well to believe love breathes—also tells me it is not love I feel, at four in the morning, in the dark, even before the birds cry. Of every hue and caste am I.”

Richard Rodríguez (1944) American journalist and essayist

Brown : The Last Discovery of America (2003)

Will Eisner photo
Charles Lyell photo
Billy Joel photo

“Don't forget your second wind;
Sooner or later you'll get your second wind.
It's not always easy to be living in this world of pain.
You're gonna be crashing into stone walls again and again.
It's alright, it's alright.”

Billy Joel (1949) American singer-songwriter and pianist

You're Only Human (Second Wind).
Song lyrics, Greatest Hits - Volume I & Volume II (1985)

James Jeans photo
Aaro Hellaakoski photo

“When the early morning sun
first pierced the grayness in the sky,
a pickerel rose from his watery home
to climb a pine tree, singing.
And high in the branches, he looked upon
the morning's glowing beauty -
the wind-blown ripples on the lake,
dew-freshened flowers and fields below.”

Aaro Hellaakoski (1893–1952) Finnish writer, poet, geographer and teacher

Aaro Hellaakoski. "The song of the pike hauen laulu." Aina Swan Cutler (trans.) in: Aili Jarvenpa, ‎Michael G. Karni (1989), Sampo, the magic mill: a collection of Finnish-American writing.

Charles Dickens photo
Laurence Sterne photo

“God tempers the wind, said Maria, to the shorn lamb.”

Maria. Compare: "Dieu mésure le froid à la brebis tondue" (translated: "God measures the cold to the shorn lamb"), Henri Estienne (1594), Prémices, etc, p. 47; "To a close-shorn sheep God gives wind by measure", George Herbert, Jacula Prudentum.
A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy (1768)

A.E. Housman photo

“The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and the flowers
Stream from the hawthorn on the wind away,
The doors clap to, the pane is blind with showers.
Pass me the can, lad; there’s an end of May.”

A.E. Housman (1859–1936) English classical scholar and poet

No. 9, st. 1.
Last Poems http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext05/8lspm10.txt (1922)

Yves Klein photo
Samuel Madden photo
Warren Zevon photo
Harold Pinter photo
Pierre-Auguste Renoir photo
Garth Brooks photo

“Cause what she's doin' now is tearin' me apart,
Fillin' up my mind and emptyin' my heart.
I can hear her call each time the cold wind blows,
And I wonder if she knows…what she's doin' now.”

Garth Brooks (1962) American country music artist

What She's Doing Now, written by Pat Alger and G. Brooks.
Song lyrics, Ropin' the Wind (1991)

Pearl S.  Buck photo

“CALLING
Wind rocks
the porch chair

somebody home.”

A.R. Ammons (1926–2001) American poet

The Really Short Poems of A. R. Ammons (1991)

Margaret Sanger photo
Bertolt Brecht photo

“Come in, dear wind, and be our guest
You too have neither home nor rest.”

Bertolt Brecht (1898–1956) German poet, playwright, theatre director

"Christmas legend" [Weinachtslegende] (1923) Berliner Börsen-Courier (25 December 1924); trans in Poems, 1913-1956, p. 100
Poems, 1913-1956 (1976)

George William Russell photo
Ruan Ji photo
William Rowan Hamilton photo
Garth Brooks photo

“He asked her twice to come along;
They said good-bye at the break of dawn.
'Cause you can't hold back the wind,
If it's meant to be again,
Then someday he'll find his way back to her arms.”

Garth Brooks (1962) American country music artist

That Ol' Wind, written by Leigh Reynolds and G. Brooks.
Song lyrics, Fresh Horses (1995)

Ursula K. Le Guin photo
Czeslaw Milosz photo
Kent Hovind photo
Arthur Stanley Eddington photo
Thomas Jefferson photo
Alauddin Khalji photo
Ralph Waldo Emerson photo
John Dryden photo
Audre Lorde photo
Burkard Schliessmann photo

“The trends that produced Schumann’s early piano works started out not so much from Weber’s refined brilliance as from Schubert’s more intimate and deeply soul-searching idiom. His creative imagination took him well beyond the harmonic sequences known until his time. He looked at the fugues and canons of earlier composers and discovered in them a Romantic principle. In the interweaving of the voices, the essence of counterpoint found its parallel in the mysterious relationships between the human psyche and exterior phenomena, which Schumann felt impelled to express. Schubert’s broad melodic lyricism has often been contrasted with Schumann’s terse, often quickly repeated motifs, and by comparison Schumann is often erroneously seen as short-winded. Yet it is precisely with these short melodic formulae that he shone his searchlight into the previously unplumbed depths of the human psyche. With them, in a complex canonic web, he wove a dense tissue of sound capable of taking in and reflecting back all the poetical character present. His actual melodies rarely have an arioso form; his harmonic system combines subtle chromatic progressions, suspensions, a rapid alternation of minor and major, and point d’orgue. The shape of Schumann’s scores is characterized by contrapuntal lines, and can at first seem opaque or confused. His music is frequently marked by martial dotted rhythms or dance-like triple time signatures. He loves to veil accented beats of the bar by teasingly intertwining two simultaneous voices in independent motion. This highly inde-pendent instrumental style is perfectly attuned to his own particular compositional idiom. After a period in which the piano had indulged in sensuous beauty of sound and brilliant coloration, in Schumann it again became a tool for conveying poetic monologues in musical terms.”

Burkard Schliessmann classical pianist

Talkings about Chopin and Schumann

John Milton photo
T.S. Eliot photo

“Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen.”

T.S. Eliot (1888–1965) 20th century English author

Ash-Wednesday (1930)

Anthony Burgess photo
Gideon Mantell photo
Joseph Conrad photo