I was born for a storm and a calm does not suit me.
No storm can last forever. It will never rain 365 days consecutively. Keep in mind that trouble comes to pass, not to stay. Don't worry! No storm, not even the one in your life, can last forever.
[A]s if life were a thunder-storm wherein you can see by a flash the horizon, and then cannot see your hand.
To have his path made clear for him is the aspiration of every human being in our beclouded and tempestuous existence.
The Stormy life can be braved Only by the heart's Sunny meditations.
I like men who have known the best and the worst, whose life has been anything but a smooth trip. Storms have battered them, they have lain, sometimes for months on end, becalmed. There is a residue even if they fail. It has not been all tinkling; there have been grand chords.
Out of life's storm I carried only a few ideas - and not one feeling.
She had storms all her life, but she died peacefully.
The blessings of one mountain day, whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm, he is rich forever.
The human heart is like a ship on a stormy sea driven about by winds blowing from all four corners of heaven.
Jesu, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high; Hide me,O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last.
Old age is like a plane flying through a storm. Once you're aboard, there's nothing you can do.
The artist, depicting man disdainful of the storm and stress of life, is no less reconciling and healing than the poet who, while endowing Nature and Humanity, rejoices in its measureless superiority to human passions and human sorrows.
We are the voices of the wandering wind, Which moan for rest and rest can never find; Lo! as the wind is so is mortal life, A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.
Adventure-seasoned and storm-buffeted, I shun all signs of anchorage, because The zest of life exceeds the bound of laws.
No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere.
Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea Loves t'have his sails filled with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his ship run on her side so low That she drinks water, and her keel plows air.
Those born to wealth, and who have the means of gratifying every wish, know not what is the real happiness of life, just as those who have been tossed on the stormy waters of the ocean on a few frail planks can alone realize the blessings of fair weather.
