There are some things you can only learn in a storm.
We need God as much in the calm as in the storm.
Time passes swiftly, but is it not joyous to see how great and growing is the treasure we have gathered together, amid the storms and stresses of so many eventful and to millions tragic and terrible years?
How often is the passing of one storm only a prelude to another.
We want Christ to hurry and calm the storm. He wants us to find him in the midst of it first.
In the middle of the storm, the 'a' of the atheist drops!
I would not live alway; I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way.
America needs to get over it. We can't control everything. We can't control the storms.
Just like the submarines, deep men are also unaffected by the storms!
What we call little things are merely the causes of great things; they are the beginning, the embryo, and it is the point of departure which, generally speaking, decides the whole future of an existence. One single black speck may be the beginning of gangrene, of a storm, of a revolution.
When you are in your worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come
I have no creative use for guilt, yours or my own. Guilt is only another way of avoiding informed action, of buying time out of the pressing need to make clear choices, out of the approaching storm that can feed the earth as well as bend the trees.
The height of human wisdom is to bring our tempers down to our circumstances, and to make a calm within, under the weight of the greatest storm without.
No storm lasts forever no matter what it is. Nature builds calmness within its storms. That's true in our own lives as well. When you reach the zenith of where you are going in your life, or in a relationship; the only place you can go is down or up. That's the nature of this universe; a cyclical thing. The seasons, the moon; everything has a cycle to it.
The storm is ended! The impartial sunLaughs down upon the battle lost and won,And crowns the triumph of the cloudy hostIn rolling lines retreating to the coast.
I live a lonely photographic life here in Santa Fe. I do see Eliot Porter occasionally, and Ansel storms through every so often, otherwise I plug along in my old fashioned way.
A leader must face danger. He must take the risk and the blame, and the brunt of the storm.
You learn to know a pilot in a storm.
I know well that the greater and more beautiful the work is, the more terrible will be the storms that rage against it.
Storms probably exist only because after them we can have a sunrise.