Quotes About Wind And Trees

#1. There was nothing to react to except wind and trees [in Cast Away]. It was like making a silent movie.

Tom Hanks

#2. If everything I possessed, vanished, suddenly,
I'd be sorry.
But I value things unpossessed.
The wind, and trees, and sky and kind thoughts, much more.

Dorothy Hartley

#3. There was a little corner of his mind that was still his own, and light came through it, as though a chink in the dark: light out of the past. It was actually pleasant, I think, to hear a kindly voice agin, bringing up memories of wind, and trees, and sun on the grass, and such forgotten things.

J.R.R. Tolkien

#4. At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen,
You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun.
And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten,
And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done.

Rudyard Kipling

#5. The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night ...

William Shakespeare

#6. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light.

Ernest Hemingway,

#7. Who me? I play scales. The scales of
dead fish of oil-slicked seas. My sister
blows wind through the hollows of fallen
trees. And we are the echoes of eternity.
Maybe you've heard of us.
We do rebirths, revolts, and resurrections.

Saul Williams

#8. The wind whispers Alex's name and the ocean repeats it; the swaying trees make me think of dancing.

Lauren Oliver

#9. Across the rectory's east lawn, through a blizzard of flying leaves, something long and thin was flapping in the wind. A ragged figure in a white nightgown hanging lifelessly from the trees.

Cash Peters

#10. Wasn't it Jesus who noted that children have special insight? (Luke 18:17) Perhaps it'd do me good to climb a few trees and listen more for the wind these days.

Seth Haines

#11. And for the Keeper, waves splashed, trees swayed, stones protected knowledge, and wind waited for orders.

Jeffrey Overstreet

#12. The wind sighed through the trees, and the fallen leaves rattled up the deserted walks and around the hubcaps of parked cars. It was a faint and sorrowful sound, and the boy thought that he might be the only one in Boulder awake enough to hear it.

Stephen King

#13. A strong wind sang sadly as it bent the trees in front of the Hall. A half moon shone through the dark, flying clouds on to the wild and empty moor.

Arthur Conan Doyle

#14. The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward. [ ... ] The trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their dry rain.

Ray Bradbury

#15. No tree becomes rooted and sturdy unless many a wind assails it. For by its very tossing it tightens its grip and plants its roots more securely; the fragile trees are those that have grown in a sunny valley.

Seneca The Younger

#16. Negroes
Sweet and docile,
Meek, humble, and kind:
Beware the day
They change their minds!
Wind
In the cotton fields,
Gentle breeze:
Beware the hour
It uproots trees!

Langston Hughes

#17. The flocks fear the wolf, the crops the storm, and the trees the wind.

Virgil

#18. I know these trees by their feel and their scent. I don't have to turn on my light to know them. The wind blows through the trees. The leaves and needles shake. Almost I feel the wind is sweeping through me as well.

Ned Hayes

#19. There is a language older by far and deeper than words. It is the language of bodies, of body on body, wind on snow, rain on trees, wave on stone. It is the language of dream, gesture, symbol, memory. We have forgotten this language. We do not even remember that it exists ...

Derrick Jensen

#20. It is early morning; outside, the sky is dark and the trees move dramatically in the wind. Soon a storm will come. I want to live to see it. This is the way of nature: to persuade us around one more bend, to beckon us to behold one more vista.

Elizabeth Berg

#21. They cursed us. Murderer they called us. They cursed us, and drove us away. And we wept, Precious, we wept to be so alone. And we only wish to catch fish so juicy sweet. And we forgot the taste of bread ... the sound of trees ... the softness of the wind. We even forgot our own name. My Precious.

J.R.R. Tolkien

#22. The same wind that uproots trees makes the grass shine. The lordly wind loves the weakness and the lowness of grasses. Never brag of being strong. The axe doesn't worry how thick the branches are. It cuts them to pieces. But not the leaves. It leaves the leaves alone.

Rumi

#23. It's easy to die. Just give your breath back to the trees and the wind.

Peter Levitt

#24. The mild wind made the trees sway gently, in a lullaby rhythm, and the resultant susurration was like the soft sighs and dreamy murmurs of a thousand peacefully slumbering children.

Dean Koontz

#25. With the sound of gusting wind in the branches of the language trees of Babel, the words gave way like leaves, and every reader glimpsed another reality hidden in the foilage.

Andrei Codrescu

#26. I could faintly smell the ocean. I imagined being one of the old oak trees standing there swaying in the wind and braving all sorts of weather. I pondered what they had seen in the past and what they might see in the future

Nancy B. Brewer

#27. Listen to the night wind in the trees, Listen to the summer grass singing; Listen to the time that's tripping by, And the dawn dew falling. Listen to the moon as it climbs the sky, Listen to the pebbles humming; Listen to the mist in the trembling leaves, And the silence calling.

Ruskin Bond

#28. Microbes are just nature's janitors who work to clean up a poorly kept culturing medium. Trying to keep microbes off of and out of your body is like trying to keep the wind out of the trees.

Robert Morse

#29. Nature is my springboard. From her I get my initial impetus. I have tried to relate the visible drama of mountains, trees, and bleached fields with the fantasy of wind blowing and changing colors and forms.

Milton Avery

#30. And like my comrades, I too have
tasted the bittersweet
assurance that I
would be okay with myself.
And like so many others
out there, I have given that
dream away to the wind
and its power over the trees.

A.P. Sweet

#31. Able closed his eyes. He was running. The grass was green with spring and fragrant, knee-high and cushioning his steps. And there was sun and a warm wind blew. Men called to him from the trees just atop the rise. He ran. He ran to them.

Lance Weller

#32. It was one of those winter days that suddenly dream of spring, when the sky is blue and soft and clear, and the wind has dropped its voice and whispers instead of screaming, and the sun is out and the trees look surprised, and over everything there is the faintest, palest tint of green.

Shirley Jackson

#33. Every object is beautiful in motion; a ship under sail, trees gently agitated with the wind, and a fine woman dancing, are three instances in point

Abigail Adams

#34. But, for all that, they had a very pleasant walk. The trees were bare of leaves, and the river was bare of water-lilies; but the sky was not bare of its beautiful blue, and the water reflected it, and a delicious wind ran with the stream, touching the surface crisply.

Charles Dickens

#35. Remember what April was like when we were young, that sense of liquid rushing and the wind taking blue scoops out of the air and the birds beside themselves in the budding trees?

John Banville

#36. The Earth is our mother just turning around, with her trees in the forest and roots underground. Our father above us whose sigh is the wind, paint us a rainbow without any end.

John Denver

#37. In the morning light, I remembered how much I loved the sound of wind through the trees. I laid back and closed my eyes, and I was comforted by the sound of a million tiny leaves dancing on a summer morning.

Patrick Carman

#38. One day it had rained before sunrise, and a soft spring wind had been blowing ever since, a soothing and persuading wind, that seemed to draw out the buds from the secret places of the dry twigs, and whisper to the roots of the rose-trees that their flowers would be wanted by and by.

George MacDonald

#39. Sky darkened rapidly, darker every second; the wind rustled the trees in the park and the new leaves on the trees stood out tender and yellow against black clouds.

Donna Tartt

#40. Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year's leaves are scattered on the ground; but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round.

Homer

#41. Wild steep mountains floating in a haze of cloud...a sea of green trees swallowing the hills and valleys, and curling around the trails and rivers, with the wind in the leaves as its tide.

Sharyn McCrumb

#42. And the wind, the wind! The bare birches and cherry-trees, unable to endure its rude caresses, bowed low down to the ground and wailed: God, for what sin hast Thou bound us to the earth and will not let us go free?

Anton Chekhov

#43. There were all sorts of small canals and cuts and runnels to be crossed. There were trees that had been shaped by steady blasts of wind, stunted and reaching sideways. Philip wanted to draw them. They were a stationary form of violent movement.

A.S. Byatt

#44. Foot speed was a profoundly different way of moving through the world than my normal modes of travel. Miles weren't things that blazed dully past. They were long, intimate straggles of weeds and clumps of dirt, blades of grass and flowers that bent in the wind, trees that lumbered and screeched.

Cheryl Strayed

#45. When it became known to the house of David c that Aram had occupied Ephraim, d the heart of Ahaz A and the hearts of his people trembled like trees of a forest shaking in the wind.

Anonymous

#46. As we age, we feel less like leaves and more like trees. We have roots that ground us and sturdy trunks that may sway, but don't break, in the wind.

Meg Jay

#47. What I love most about nature is how indifferent it is to us humans and human suffering. While we are here with our little or big tragedies - the wind is blowing, the leaves are rustling in the trees, the flowers bloom, and die - there's a great comfort in that indifference,

Valzhyna Mort

#48. The perfume of the flowers and of the bay tree are wafted on high, like incense. The birds sing sweet songs of praise to their Creator. In the tops of the trees, the soughing of the wind is like the hushed prayers of the multitude in some vast cathedral. Here the heart of man becomes impressionable.

William Wendt

#49. I thought it would be quieter here." [Anna] hadn't meant to say anything, but the noise startled her.
"The wind in the trees," Bran said. "And there are some birds that stay year-round. Sometimes when the wind is still and the cold is upon us, the quiet is so deep you can feel it in your bones.

Patricia Briggs

#50. Like a fierce wind roaring high up in the bare branches of trees, a wave of passion came over me, aimless but surging ... I suppose it's lust, but it's awful and holy like thunder and lightning and the wind.

Marion Milner

#51. I loved to sleep with the window open. Rainy nights were the best of all: I would open the window and put my head on the pillow and close my eyes and feel the wind on my face and listen to the trees sway and creak.

Neil Gaiman

#52. Life is amazingly beautiful. Clouds and wind blowing through the trees makes such a sound of music that one can contour to their own heart.

Peace Gypsy

#53. At the Summer Solstice, all is green and growing, potential coming into being, the miracle of manifestation painted large on the canvas of awareness. At the Winter Solstice, the wind is cold, trees are bare and all lies in stillness beneath blankets of snow.

Gary Zukav

#54. My father taught me how to track, how to read the ground and the trees. He taught me that everything has a language, that if you knew the language, you could make the world talk. The grass and the dirt hold secrets, he'd say. The wind and the water carry stories and warnings.

Victoria Schwab

#55. Wind does not need translation. It speaks the language of men, of animals and birds, of rocks and trees and earth and sky and water. It does not eat or sleep, or take shelter from the weather. It is the weather.
And it lives.

Jessica Day George

#56. After an age of leaves and feathers someone dead thought of the mountain as money and cut the trees that were here and the wind and the rain at night. It is hard to say it.

W.S. Merwin

#57. The truck blasts through the trees and I stick my hand out the window, trying to catch the wind in my palm like bails used to, missing her, missing the girl I used to be around her, missing who we all used to be. We will never be those people again. She took them all with her.

Jandy Nelson

#58. All the atoms that were them, they've gone into the air and the wind and the trees and the earth and all the living things. They'll never vanish. They're just part of everything.

Philip Pullman

#59. She liked the way a ray of mild autumn sun infiltrating the thick cluster of trees caught a reddish orange leaf swirling in the wind and transformed it golden yellow. She liked that it wasn't a leaf she recognised, that she could name or associate with her past.

Renita D'Silva

#60. Happiness is free, Mama says, as sure as the blinkin' stars, the withered arms the trees throw down for our fires, the waterproofin' on our skin, and the tongues of wind curlin' the walnut leaves before slidin' down our ears.

Emily Murdoch

#61. The tree that never had to fight
for sun and sky and air and light
but stood out in the open plain
and always got it share of rain,
never became a forest king
but lived and died a scrubby thing.
Good timber does not grow with ease.
The stronger wind, the stronger trees.

Douglas Malloch

#62. I hear hundreds of years of life. I hear wind and rain and fire and beetles. I hear the seasons changing and birds and squirrels. I hear the life of the trees this wood came from.

Garth Stein

#63. Narrow lanes climb both slopes and come together in a great ring of elm trees which encircles the flat summit. Any wind
even the slightest
draws from the height of the elms a rushing sound, multifoliate and powerful.

Richard Adams

#64. Mere life is a luxury, and the color of the grass, of the flowers, of the sky, the wind in the trees, the outlines of the horizon, the forms of clouds, all give a pleasure as exquisite as the sweetest music to the ear famishing for it. The

Mark Twain

#65. Wine makes all things possible. GEORGE R. R. MARTIN, The Mystery Knight A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things. GEORGE R. R. MARTIN, A Game of Thrones Nothing burns like the cold. GEORGE R. R. MARTIN, A Game of Thrones Laughter is poison to fear.

George R R Martin

#66. I love the sound of the wind in the trees and the song of the birds and the shuffle in the leaves of my many woodland friends.

Jason Mraz

#67. The world around him grew silent; there was something in the air. The odor of dead meat came down on the wind, drifting through the trees. Soft and sour, the smell of distant death.

Jeff Shaara

#68. Is it as plainly in our living shown,
By which way the wind hath blown?

Adelaide Crapsey

#69. Rome was not meant to move, but to be beautiful. The wind was supposed to be the fastest thing here, and the trees, bending and swaying, to slow it down. Now

Mark Helprin

#70. tonight the gars on trees are swords in the hands of knights
the stars are like twenty-seven dancing russians and the wind
is

Frank Stanford

#71. We stop when we reach the top, climb out, shivering in the cold and ghostly mist under wind-blasted trees, to read the sign erected by the Public Works Department: "You have reached Trumseng La, Bhutan's highest road pass. Check Your Brakes. Bash On Regardless. Thank you."

Jamie Zeppa

#72. It was the noise Of ancient trees falling while all was still Before the storm, in the long interval Between the gathering clouds and that light breeze Which Germans call the Wind's bride.

Charles Godfrey Leland

#73. Then starting home, he walked toward the trees, and under them, leaving behind him the big sky, the whisper of wind voices in the wind-bent wheat.

Truman Capote

#74. I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
I will sing to the stars in the sky,
I love, I am loved, he is mine,
Now at last I can die!
I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
I have heart-fire and singing to give,
I can tread on the grass or the stars,
Now at last I can live!

Sara Teasdale

#75. One day his fingers will grow knobby, he will start to sag. I pray to the goddesses, the gods, the eggs, the clouds, the trees. I pray to the wind that he will grow old and die well.

Jessica Bates

#76. Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind.
Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things.
Their language has been lost.
But not the gestures.

Vera Nazarian

#77. trees [-]
Inside their wooden samurai armor they are geisha beauties, each one a 'person-of-the-arts,' limbs dancing, arranging flowers, carrying the wind's music, the calligraphy of their roots pure poetry, rhyming earth and berth.

Tirumalai S. Srivatsan

#78. The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.

Oscar Wilde

#79. EXPRESSIONS Look without! Behold the beauty of the day, The shout of color to glad color, rocks and trees, and sun and seas, and wind and sky: All these are God's expression, art work of His hand, which men must love ere they can understand.

Richard Hovey

#80. What a terrible thing could be freedom. Trees were free when they were uprooted by the wind; ships were free when they were torn from their moorings; men were free when they were cast out of their homes - free to starve, free to perish of cold and hunger.

Radclyffe Hall

#81. Have been many things since last we met. I have been trees and rivers and hills and stones. I have spoken to stars and earth and wind.

Susanna Clarke

#82. The sunlight, penetrating the gaps in the tall trees, plays chess on the gravestones, shifting slowly and thoughtfully across the worn old stones. The wind, like a hundred violins, plays perpetually in the topmost branches of the deodars.

Ruskin Bond

#83. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?

E. M. Forster

#84. That's a big concern right now with these storms coming on the heels of a very wet week. The soil is saturated, and the high winds that are supposed to accompany these storms could potentially knock down trees, which often take down power lines with them.

Bryan Swanson

#85. She looked out at the other trees, and she realised that her life was one of thousands, any one of which could have been her, she had grown wherever her life had taken her, she had drifted wherever the wind had blown her.

Dave McKean

#86. Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light.

Jack London

#87. If you are on the side whence the wind is blowing you will see the trees looking much lighter than you would see them on the other sides; and this is due to the fact that the wind turns up the reverse side of the leaves which in all trees is much whiter than the upper side.

Leonardo Da Vinci

#88. I thought all the trees were whispering to each other, passing news and plots along in an unintelligible language; and the branches swayed and groped without any wind. They do say the trees do actually move, and can surround strangers and hem them.

J.R.R. Tolkien

#89. We were all nomads once, and crossed the deserts and the seas on tracks that could not be detected, but were clear to those who knew the way. Since settling down and rooting like trees, but without the ability to make use of the wind to scatter our seed, we have found only infection and discontent.

Jeanette Winterson

#90. She felt as if her entire body were glowing with the taste of sunlight, of wind blowing in wide spaces and trees reaching their burdened arms to boundless skies.

Alison Croggon

#91. And once he said do not forget
the north wind brings
light from the house of Aries
to the apple trees

W.G. Sebald

#92. I know the past will drag you backward and down, have you snatching at whispers of wind and the gibberish of trees rubbing together, trying to decipher some code, trying to piece together what was broken. It's hopeless. The past is nothing but a weight. It will build inside you like a stone.

Lauren Oliver

#93. Nothing from the summer carries more lasting allure for me than the memory of sitting with Ruth on the bank of a stream on campus, taking turns reading aloud from the books we held on our laps, while the wind wet leaves gossiping in the old trees above us and the creek rustled in its stony bed.

Scott Russell Sanders

#94. I remember you as the wind that breathes upon the forest
The murmur of leaves rustling
The rays of the sun.
I remember you as the power of trees growing
And the bud breaking into bloosom.
You are in my thoughts whenever i praise
All that is noble and true.

P.C. Cast

#95. Momo listened to everyone and everything - even to the rain and the wind and the pine trees - and all of them spoke to her after their own fashion.

Michael Ende

#96. The screech and mechanical uproar of the big city turns the citified head, fills citified ears - as the song of birds, wind in the trees, animal cries, or as the voices and songs of his loved ones once filled his heart. He is sidewalk-happy.

Frank Lloyd Wright

#97. Before birth; yes, what time was it then? A time like now, and when they were dead, it would be still like now: these trees, that sky, this earth, those acorn seeds, sun and wind, all the same, while they, with dust-turned hearts, change only.

Truman Capote

#98. The wind plays the world like an instrument. Blows through trees like flutes. But trees won't grow in cement. And as heart beats bring percussion fallen trees bring repercussions. Cities play upon our souls like broken drums.

Saul Williams

#99. Entrusting her memory to the wind, to the embrace of the silent sentinel trees and to the care of the faithful stars, her namesake, pure and everlasting, the uncontained universe contained in her: Cassiopeia.

Rick Yancey

#100. When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold, Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold;
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West, Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!

J.R.R. Tolkien