In looking for my mind, I discovered that it seems to be in many different places. Sometimes it is drinking a glass of water, remembering swimming in the summer, feeling the breeze. In this contemplation I observed that the self is more elusive than I thought.
Your thighs are appletrees. Your knees are a southern breeze.
People talk about opportunity knocking, but the gate was always swinging in the breeze before I got to the door.
I'm thankful for the sea breeze that feels so good right now, and the scent of jasmine when the sun starts going down.
Listen. The trees in this story are stirring, trembling, readjusting themselves. A breeze is coming in gusts off the sea, and it is almost as if the trees know, in their restlessness, in their head-tossing impatience, that something is about to happen.
Each string of a wind harp responds with a different note to the same breeze. What activity makes you personally resonate most strongly, most deeply?
The worst thing about talk. . . is that there's no way to lay it to rest. Every fresh breeze brings a new speculation.
Innovation opportunities do not come with the tempest but with the rustling of the breeze.
Lady love, your love is peaceful like the summers breeze.
A man, at least, is free; he can explore every passion, every land, overcome obstacles, taste the most distant pleasures. But a woman is continually thwarted. Inert and pliant at the same time, she must struggle against both the softness of her flesh and subjection to the law. Her will, like the veil tied to her hat by a string, flutters with every breeze; there is always some desire luring her on, some convention holding her back.
I will come back as a little breeze. You will feel me on your face, and you will know that I am still listening. So you can still talk to me.
My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring and carried aloft on the wings of the breeze.
Those who have never worked nude outdoors just can't imagine how much better a breeze feels on their skin than an item of sweaty clothing.
Breeze turned to look out the window. "You were always the best of us, Sazed," he said quietly. "Because you believed in something.
But the truth, he knows, is otherwise. His pleasure in living has been snuffed out. Like a leaf on a stream, like a puffball on a breeze, he has begun to float towards his end. He sees it quite clearly, and it fills him with (the word will not go away) despair. The blood of life is leaving his body and despair is taking its place, despair that is like a gas, odourless, tasteless, without nourishment. You breathe it in, your limbs relax, you cease to care, even at the moment when the steel touches your throat.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze - On me alone it blew.
But if i sit here and weep I'll be blown over by the slightest of breeze
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Acorns are planted silently by some unnoticed breeze.
I hear music Mighty fine music, The murmur of a morning breeze up there The rattle of the milkman on the stair Sure that's music.
