But never have I been a blue calm sea I have always been a storm.
Today I felt pass over me A breath of wind from the wings of madness.
Love, she thought, must come suddenly, with great outbursts and lightnings,--a hurricane of the skies, which falls upon life, revolutionises it, roots up the will like a leaf, and sweeps the whole heart into the abyss.
The doom of a nation can be averted only by a storm of flowing passion, but only those who are passionate themselves can arouse passion in others.
Reason cannot calm the storm of emotion, and emotion usually wins, until it settles down and allows reason to rise again and apologize on behalf of it.
the storm thunders at my heart; I find it difficult to believe in the existence of anything except the clouds which limit my horizon.
Your heart is like a great river after a long spell of rain, spilling over its banks. All signposts that once stood on the ground are gone, inundated and carried away by that rush of water. And still the rain beats down on the surface of the river. Every time you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: That’s it. That’s my heart.
The mind's pleasures are made to calm the tempests of the heart.
The blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it's overturned the order of the soul.
A lot of my songs are about being a teenager with a tornado in your head.
The passions are the gales of life; and it is religion only that can prevent them from rising into a tempest.
We see what music can do for people. Hell, we see what music does for us! When you see thousands of people out in front of you, it's fixing their lives. It's helping. It's healing. It's bigger than the inconvenience of jealousy or emotional storm clouds.
I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.
I can be going through nothing, but within me, in my head, oh my God! It can be a circus.
There's a storm inside of us. I've heard many team guys speak of this. A burning. A river. A drive.
The cloud of mind is discharging its collected lightning.
The weather today is partly angry, leading to resignation and ultimatums.
The storm had now definitely abated, and what thunder there was now grumbled over more distant hills, like a man saying 'And another thing...' twenty minutes after admitting he'd lost the argument.
That's what it's like in my head all the time, constant snow, constant weather patterns of all sorts - blizzards, cyclones.
What showers arise, blown with the windy tempest of my heart
Eros seizes and shakes my very soul like the wind on the mountain shaking ancient oaks.
After a while, though the grief did not go away from us, it grew quiet. What had seemed a storm wailing through the entire darkness seemed to come in at last and lie down.
