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“When you give without expectations, you feel that joy is rushing through you like the spring breeze caressing a newly blooming flower.”
Debasish Mridha“Enjoy the stillness, sweet snail! Savor the spring breeze while it still means something! Soon enough, like summer tempests your tears will come!”
Walt Holcombe, Things Just Get Away from You“Let your thoughts, intentions, imaginations, and dreams fly under a clear blue sky with a spring breeze floating like a butterfly from flower to flower. See the beauty of mankind. Enjoy the nectar of life. It will shift your awareness to a higher consciousness.”
Debasish Mridha“I release ribbons of gratitude to flow back upon the path I have walked as it stretches out behind me, so they brush past everyone whose path crossed my own. May they feel the brief kiss of remembrance within their hearts, there and then gone again, passing like a spring breeze, so that they suddenly know the things they have done for others, in so many ways big and small, seen and unseen alike, somewhere are known and treasured.”
Cristen Rodgers“And there was never a better time to delve for pleasure in language than the sixteenth century, when novelty blew through English like a spring breeze. Some twelve thousand words, a phenomenal number, entered the language between 1500 and 1650, about half of them still in use today, and old words were employed in ways not tried before. Nouns became verbs and adverbs; adverbs became adjectives. Expressions that could not have grammatically existed before - such as 'breathing one's last' and 'backing a horse', both coined by Shakespeare - were suddenly popping up everywhere.”
Bill Bryson, Shakespeare: The World as Stage“...Or we can blaze! Become legends in our own time, strike fear in the heart of mediocre talent everywhere! We can scald dogs, put records out of reach! Make the stands gasp as we blow into an unearthly kick from three hundred yards out! We can become God's own messengers delivering the dreaded scrolls! We can race dark Satan himself till he wheezes fiery cinders down the back straightaway....They'll speak our names in hushed tones, 'those guys are animals' they'll say! We can lay it on the line, bust a gut, show them a clean pair of heels. We can sprint the turn on a spring breeze and feel the winter leave our feet! We can, by God, let our demons loose and just wail on!”
John L. Parker Jr., Once a Runner