I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er…

I tohhugt finding this would be so arduous but it's a breeze!

— Deacon

The sun, a red wheel, was sinking slowly in the west. Besides being spectacularly beautiful, the early-summer sunset was exceedingly soft and gentle: black…

— Mo Yan

Dawn's faint breath breathes with your mouth at the ends of empty streets. Gray light your eyes, sweet drops of dawn on dark hills.…

— Cesare Pavese

He removed several pages of death certificates, which were picked up by another breeze and sent into the trees. Some would fall with the…

— Jonathan Safran Foer

Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver.

— Alfred Lord Tennyson

A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to look

— Anonymous

The sea's vast depths lie open to the fish; Wherever the breezes blow the bird may fly; So to the brave man every land's…

— Ovid

You love young ones and babes, I know this. The young will always befriend and admire you...all the young ones of the earth belong…

— Brian Jacques

Life is fragile, like the dew hanging delicately on the grass, crystal drops that will be carried away on the first morning breeze.

— Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

“The Deliverator belongs to an elite order, a hallowed subcategory. He’s got esprit up to here. Right now, he is preparing to carry out…

— Neal Stephenson

Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't fill your thoughts, that's your…

— Wumen Huikai

Creation isn't forcing or commanding something into existence. It's more of a rolling over, a good stretch, blissing out, lying on the grass watching…

— Esther Hicks

A beautiful woman without fixed principles may be likened to those fair but rootless flowers which float in streams, driven by every breeze.

— Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington

I don't know if it was much of an interview. We just shot the breeze.

— Richard Petty

Daffy-down-dilly came up in the cold, Through the brown mould Although the March breeze blew keen on her face, Although the white snow lay…

— Anna Bartlett Warner