Best 9 quotes in «windy quotes» category

the windy sky Cries out a literate despair.

The windy satisfaction of the tongue.

A poetess is not as selfish as you assume. After months of agonising over her marriage of words—the bride— and spaces—the groom, she knows that as soon as she has penned the poem, it’s yours to consume. So, without giving it a think, she blows on the ink and the letters fly away like dandelions on a windy day, landing on hands and lips, on hearts and hips. But more often than not, you can easily spot them trodden and forgotten, becoming sodden and rotten. Yet, she will continue to make what’s others to take because selfishness is not the mark of a poetess.

Wind is the most skilled hairdresser! Find a windy weather and let your hair be shaped creatively!

Exiting the building, we shield our eyes with our hands and raise our voices. The wind has really picked up and is sending dirt, dust and debris airborne. A few windblown pedestrians, struggling to walk down the sidewalk, appear as though they might get blown away. I ask Tiger where he wants to go. "ANYWHERE…I DON'T CARE. AS LONG AS IT'S NOT FAR." "LET'S GRAB A CAB. WE CAN'T WALK IN THIS." As I open the backdoor of a Yellow Cab parked at the curb, the cabbie turns and gives me a mean look. "Are you the Floro's?" he asked. Tiger follows me into the backseat, as I answer- That we are. Tiger asked, "And you are?" The cabbie grunts- "ALEXANDER the fuck'n GREAT.

Sometime I wonder why I walk alone on this cold, windy road. Maybe I have no one to love or no one love me at all?

The breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind.

The lamp hummed: 'Regard the moon, La lune ne garde aucune rancune, She winks a feeble eye, She smiles into corners. She smoothes the hair of the grass. The moon has lost her memory. A washed-out smallpox cracks her face, Her hand twists a paper rose, That smells of dust and old Cologne, She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells That cross and cross across her brain." The reminiscence comes Of sunless dry geraniums And dust in crevices, Smells of chestnuts in the streets, And female smells in shuttered rooms, And cigarettes in corridors And cocktail smells in bars.

To most human beings, wind is an irritation. To most trees, wind is a song.