I like to escape; I like to write when I go on a walk - I'm kind of very fairy that way. I get inspired by the wind. Or when I daydream, that's when I write.
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only The wind will listen.
T. S. Eliot
The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and the flowersStream 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
Madness rides the star-wind... claws and teeth sharpened on centuries of corpses... dripping death astride a bacchanale of bats from nigh-black ruins of buried temples of Belial...
H. P. Lovecraft
A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.
e. e. cummings
I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it - but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
I think we all have our own personality, unique and distinctive, and at the same time, I think that our own unique and distinctive personality blends with the wind, with the footsteps in the street, with the noises around the corner, and with the silence of memory, which is the great producer of ghosts.
I am a being of Heaven and Earth, of thunder and lightning, of rain and wind, of the galaxies.
I was asleep, in the upstairs bedroom, in the rear of the house. There was this tremendous crash, there was a terrible wind force hitting my body, and then I blanked out.
The river is constantly turning and bending and you never know where it's going to go and where you'll wind up. Following the bend in the river and staying on your own path means that you are on the right track. Don't let anyone deter you from that.
The trouble with making music as a job is that I have no outside interests. All I can do to wind down is go to sleep.
Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride; The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart, The eyes bloodshot with tears and tide. Let the wind blow, for many a man shall die.