Quotes & Sayings About I Am The Storm

Coming through the fire and through the storm of life with a strong man, my fiance Ashanti, whom I've been dating for eight months and two wonderful children beside me, I'm just so happy that I have been able to maintain my integrity and get to where I am today with the right energy around me. — Angie Stone

I cling to Cal, Kilorn, Shade, to saving all the newbloods I can, because I am afraid of waking up to emptiness, to a place where my friends and family are gone and I am nothing but a single bolt of lightning in the blackness of a lonely storm.
If I am a sword, I am a sword made of glass, and I feel myself begin to shatter. — Victoria Aveyard

I must return to the mountains-to Yosemite. I am told that the winter storms there will not be easily borne, but I am bewitched, enchanted, and tomorrow I must start for the great temple to listen to the winter songs and sermons preached and sung only there. — John Muir

I should have known," he whispered. "I am the rain." And yet he looked dully down the mountains of his body where the hills fell to an abyss. He felt the driving rain, and heard it whipping down, pattering on the ground. He saw his hills grow dark with moisture. Then a lancing pain shot through the heart of the world. "I am the land," he said, "and I am the rain. The grass will grow out of me in a little while."
And the storm thickened, and covered the world with darkness, and with the rush of waters. — John Steinbeck

I am so sad. I am so sad it makes me heavier than the sum of my parts. I shift, restless, but it doesn't help. It's like - time. All this time in here is on me, has its hooks in me. Maybe if I sleep more, I'll wake up and I'll feel different, but I can't. The storm is really happening now and it makes the room feel emptier. Makes me feel emptier. — Courtney Summers

Life occurs in segments, little bursts of time setting us on a course. Our little boat floats out into vast waters, sailing along until a storm comes to knock us off course - or worse. How many people are floating around, lost? I'm not even sure I am floating anymore. It's more like I'm trying to break my boat free from years of rot after it's been filled with sediment and settled on the ocean floor. — H.M. Ward

Not the people but the mind, Not the storm but the silence, Not the answer but the question, Not the result but the reason, I am scared of. Not the real but the dream, Not the moment but the memory, Not the lie but the truth, Not the death but the life, I am scared of. Not the end but the start, Not the strangers but the known, Not the hate but the love, Not the world but the me, I am scared of.' I — Savi Sharma

Wind and storm colored July. Also, in the middle, cadaverous, awful, lay the grey puddle in the courtyard, when holding an envelope in my hand, I carried a message. I came to the puddle. I could not cross it. Identity failed me. We are nothing, I said, and fell. I was blown like a feather. I was wafted down tunnels. Then very gingerly, I pushed my foot across. I laid my hand against a brick wall. I returned very painfully, drawing myself back into my body over the grey, cadaverous space of the puddle. This is life then to which I am committed. — Virginia Woolf

Lost in this awful world, rubbing shoulders with the multitudes, I am like a tired man whose eye can't see behind him, in the deep years, anything but disillusion and bitterness, and in front of him, nothing but a storm which contains nothing new, neither learning nor pain. — Charles Baudelaire

When you get beef from the butcher, you don't feel bad for the cow that has been killed. But if someone asked you to wield a knife and kill the cow yourself, you wouldn't be able to do it."
"Are you saying that you are a cow?"
"Exactly."
"What?"
"You found me alive and couldn't bring yourself to kill me. It would have been alright if the storm had finished me off. I am like that cow and the storm is the butcher. Do you see now?"
"Yes, I see. You absolutely insist that you are a cow. I am not arguing. — Anya Wylde

I can't do this anymore, I think, my own voice almost lost in the storm. I can't do this anymore. I can't face this on my own. I am drowning in this river and I am haunted in this house my father built and my mind is breaking. — T.J. Klune

I am a Stormdancer! Mere metal is nothing compared with the power of a storm." Kade made his voice boom and spread his arms wide. His eyes sparked with humor. "I. Am. Invincible."
"Until a happy wind blows," I said.
"Curse those sunny days."
"The bane of your existence."
"The scourge of society."
"The downfall of decency."
"And boring, too. Nothing like a good gale to put a spring in your step." Kade grinned. — Maria V. Snyder

I have never cared for Castles
or a Crown that grips too tight,
Let the night sky be my starry roof
and the moon my only light,
My Heart was born a Hero,
my storm-bound sword won't rest,
I left the Harbour long ago
on a Never-ending Quest,
I am off to the horizon,
where the wild wind blows the foam,
Come get lost with me, love,
and the sea shall be our home! — Cressida Cowell

She who invented words, and yet does not speak; she who brings dreams and visions, yet does not sleep; she who swallows the storm, yet knows nothing of rain or wind. I speak for her; I am her own. — Catherynne M Valente

I didn't think things through, you know. I just rushed out and rescued you. I caused you great suffering." Her large green eyes fastened on his face. Storm clouds gathered instantly when she felt his faint, mocking amusement echoing through her mind. "What? What's so funny? Some idiot tried to put a stake through your heart, and he didn't even hit the darn thing!"
For which I am grateful. And I am even more grateful that you rescued me. I did not like being imprisoned and in such pain.
"I guess I'm glad I rescued you, too, but the truth is, Jacques, I have watched you healing faster than is possible. You're even more dangerous now. You are, aren't you?"
Never to you, he denied. — Christine Feehan

Showers"

The child tells me, put a brick in the tank,
don't wear leather, don't eat brisket,
snapper, or farmed salmon - not tells,
orders - doesn't she know the sluice gates
are wide open and a trillion gallons
wasted just for the dare of it?

Until the staring eye shares that thrill,
witnessing: I am just iris and cornea,
blind spot where brain meets mind,
the place where the image forms itself
from a spark - image of the coming storm.

Still the child waits outside the bathroom
with the watch she got for Best Essay,
muttering, two minutes too long.

Half measures, I say. She says, action.
I: I'm one man. She: Seven billion.

If you choose, the sea goes back. — Dennis Nurkse

Until I lose my soul and lie
Blind to the beauty of the earth,
Deaf though shouting wind goes by,
Dumb in a storm of mirth;
Until my heart is quenched at length
And I have left the land of men,
Oh, let me love with all my strength
Careless if I am loved again. — Sara Teasdale

I thought a wolf's mindset was just to take?"
"I am not just looking at you through the eyes of a wolf, Cora. I am looking at you through the eyes of your mate. It is the only thing that has allowed me to hold back with you. The pull between us is intense. — Franca Storm

I know there is a God - I see the storm coming and I see his hand in it - if he has a place then I am ready - we see the hand. — John F. Kennedy

I am the sky and nothing can stick to me. The sky is open and vast and stays unchanged no matter what; it is always the sky. A storm can roll through it, an airplane can roar through, and it is always the sky. — Geralyn Lucas

Am I a storm-waster? For it is within the fury of the very storms within which I cower that I find resources for my growth that are entirely absent on calmer days. — Craig D. Lounsbrough

I know there is a God, and that He hates injustice and slavery. I see the storm coming, and I know that his hand is in it. If He has a place and work for me - and I think He has - I believe I am ready. — Abraham Lincoln

Spurred by Amy's death I've tried to salvage unwilling victims from the mayhem of the internal storm and am always, always just pulled inside myself. — Russell Brand

As far as I am concerned I wish to be out on the high seas. I wish to take my chances with wind, and wave, and star. And I had rather go down in the glory and grandeur of the storm, than rot in any orthodox harbor. — Robert G. Ingersoll

The Busy Road
I am so used to it by now
that when the traffic falls silent,
I think a storm is coming. — Lydia Davis

Remember The Princess and the Pea? She could feel a single pea through dozens of mattresses, and that's how everyone knew she was of noble blood, even though she'd arrived looking bedraggled and scruffy.
It's supposed to be an example of the saying "breeding will out", meaning that you can always spot true royalty, even if that someone is dressed in rags. Am I the only one who thinks the moral of this story is all screwed up? You get caught in a storm and knock on a stranger's door in the middle of the night to ask for shelter... then when they ask how you slept, you COMPLAIN that you were uncomfortable?
Honey, that's not being a Princess. That's being a diva bitch. — Rosie Blythe

I stand above the tree level I am a tree I catch wind storm breaths My branches claw I drink sky It stretches me I don't care I catch jokes and luck from tall thin blue air — Marie Ponsot

I wanted to imprint every feature of his into my mind. I want to remember his kisses that calmed the storm in me, pulling me out of confusion instantaneously. I did it all so I could be sure of a throwback memory that would calm me if ever I am in a storm again. — Kavipriya Moorthy

I am come,' the Demon said simply, in a droning monotone. 'I am with the dead of the lake. Come to me.' Then the appearance of the skull-face vanished and the blood burst into a shroud of flame, spreading through the throne room in a storm of brilliant red and yellow. The screams could be heard half a league away. — Ian Livingstone

I am determined, even if they throw mud in my face, never to show any resentment, nor break with them, nor deviate from the esteem and honor I owe them in the sight of God. If they forget themselves and say or do something offensive against your little bark, even if it is done purposely to make it sink, bear with it for the love of God, who will save you from shipwreck and calm the storm. Do not complain or even say a single work about it. In spite of everything, continue to compliment them when you meet, as if nothing were amiss. — Vincent De Paul

I rarely feel like I'm in chaos, but when I am, I usually [retreat] and try to find the eye of the storm; if I'm still and listen and don't engage, maybe the chaos will subside. — Mike Colter

I am persuaded that not a novel in ten thousand is of any use to a child to fit him for life. The most are of use only to unfit him
to blunt his senses and infect him with the writers' poor silly sentiments. Nine out of ten novelists deserve to be prosecuted under an Adulterated Emotions Act. — Storm Jameson

The whole article, quite a long and verbose one, was written with the sole purpose of self-display. One could simply read it between the lines: "Pay attention to me, look at how I was in those moments. What do you need the sea, the storm, the rocks, the splintered planks of the ship for? I've described it all well enough for you with my mighty pen. Why look at this drowned woman with her dead baby in her dead arms? Better look at me, at how I could not bear the sight and turned away. Here I am turning my back; here I am horrified and unable to look again; I've shut my eyes - interesting, is it not?" I — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Nonsense. Your grandmother was headstrong and brilliant and took the ton by storm. I'm told she spent her first season breaking a score of hearts and boldly inserting her opinion where it wasn't desired. Frankly you remind me entirely of her, and she would be proud of you tonight as I am. — Sarah MacLean

Brainstorming, for me, takes place in my bed at night between the time I turn out my lights and I finally fall asleep. It is not a very violent storm, but what's happening is I am just thinking about different ideas and maybe things I've seen that day that I think might make a good story. — Chris Van Allsburg

Edges
I am a child throwing rocks into the stream.
Challenging the rushing water.
Raising my fist and daring fate to do it worst.
I am a dancer in the waves of the ocean.
Swaying in time with the tide.
Pirouetting, the current my only friend.
I am the sun, rising across the canyon
Ascending, and shinning down.
Giving the illusion of perception and motion.
I am thoughts like a rolling river.
Water cascading over the rocks of my soul.
Shaping, forming, conforming.
I am the peace of the rain forest.
Basking in solitude
Tranquil, serene, transfixing angles.
Reflecting from within.
Dripping and dropping. Shaking it off.
I am the dust of the galaxy.
Yearning to know itself.
I am the wind.
Wandering. Searching.
A storm brewing from within. — Tosha Michelle

I am always hearing ... the sound of a far off song. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it means; and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of its music, as it were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in which I make such a storm; but what I do hear, is quite enough to make me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. So it would you if you could hear it.'
'No it wouldn't,' returned Diamond stoutly. 'For they wouldn't hear the music of the far-away song; and if they did, it wouldn't do them any good. You see you and I are not going to be drowned, and so we might enjoy it.'
'But you have never heard the psalm, and you don't know what it is like. Somehow, I can't say how, it tells me that all is right; that it is coming to swallow up all the cries ... It wouldn't be the song it seems if it did not swallow up all their fear and pain too, and set them singing it themselves with all the rest. — George MacDonald

My dad. I don't really know where to begin other than to say he simply wasn't a "dad." He was this mythical creature. Part unicorn, part violent storm. And although he separated from my mom when she was pregnant, I somehow knew to forgive him. It's as if I could grasp as a kid that this horse was so wild, he couldn't be pinned down, and even if he could I am not sure you would want him around. This was the kind of man you saw in small doses. They were memorable. Sometimes dark, sometimes humorous, sometimes quotable. — Drew Barrymore

I cannot really play. Either at piano or at life; never, never have I been able to. I have always been too hasty, too impatient; something always intervenes and breaks it up. But who really knows how to play, and if he does know, what good is it to him? Is the great dark less dark for that, are the unanswerable questions less inscrutable, does the pain of despair at eternal inadequacy burn less fiercely, and can life ever be explained and seized and ridden like a tamed horse or is it always a mighty sail that carries us in the storm and, when we try to seize it, sweep us into the deep? Sometimes there is a hole in me that seems to extend to the center of the earth. What could fill it? Yearning? Dispair? Happiness? What happiness? Fatigue? Resignation? Death? What am I alive for? Yes, for what am I alive? — Erich Maria Remarque

And here am I ... what did I hope - what did I expect? What rich promise did the future seem to hold out to me, when with scarcely a sigh - only a bleak sense of utter desolation - I took my leave from the brief phantom, risen for a fleeting instant, of my first love?
What has come of it all - of all that I had hoped for? And now when the shades of evening are beginning to close in upon my life, what have I left that is fresher, dearer to me, than the memories of that brief storm that came and went so swiftly one morning in spring? — Ivan Turgenev

I am very aware that there are many of you who have friends and loved ones in the areas affected by this storm who have been displaced or who have not yet been accounted for. — Jo Bonner

Too many disciples have faith in their faith, or in their joy in the Lord; and when a spiritual storm comes, they have neither faith nor joy. Only one thing can endure, and that is love for God. If such love is not there, we will not recognize the loving voice of God when He cries out to us that He is "our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble ... be still, and know that I am God ... " (Ps. 46:1, 10a). — Oswald Chambers

Fate whispers to the wolf;
'you can not withstand the storm.'
and the wolf whispers back
'I am the storm — Unknown

I am the story teller, charged with the secrets of this world and beyond. I am the calm in the storm, the quiet in the quake and the stillness in the dark. I am the old lady with the pot of water when you are dying of thirst. I am the sapling after the forest fire and the child who survives after pestilence. For those who will listen, hear you the first secret. Love is the sea in which all of nature exists and the greatest love of all is that which is spilled for another. — Kaizen Kobe

Without a musket to raise, a barricade to storm, a flag to wave, the question hit me in the face like the cold air: 'Who am I?' — Gary Ackerman

I don't care if you think I'm a Saint or a fool or the Darkling's whore. If you want to remain at the Little Palace you will follow me. And if you don't like it, you will be gone by tonight, or I will have you in chains. I am a solider. I am the Sun Summoners. And I'm the only chance you have. — Leigh Bardugo

A longer pause, and the carriage came to a halt. "I see very little difference," he finally said into the quiet. "My life is duty. Essentially." Miranda wasn't certain if she hurt more for him or for herself. "What part of your duty am I?" He squeezed her hand. "You're the ray of sun at the center of the storm." It choked her up, that image. — Courtney Milan

He slowly crossed the barn to squat down in front of her, never once looking away. His callused palm was warm around her icy fingers. "You must never lie to me," he said softly. "Whatever your story, be it good or bad, I will accept. I am not your father, who will storm and rage at you when disappointed." And the warmth in his eyes made her believe every word he spoke was true. "You are perfectly and beautifully made," Michael continued. "You are exactly as God intended for you to be, and I love you precisely as you are. — Elizabeth Camden

I am a hollow shell, the crab's died, there's nothing left inside. Don't they know that? — George R R Martin

They said even in the storm we'll find some lights, So here I am trying to find my own light in my stormy days. — Karla M. Nashar

I am a star in the firmament
that observe the world, despises the world
and consumed in its heat.
I am the sea by night in a storm
the sea shouting that accumulates new sins
and to the ancient makes recompense.
I am exiled from your world
of pride polite, by pride defrauded,
I am the king without crown.
I am the passion without words
without stones of the hearth, without weapons in the war,
is my same force that make me sick — Hermann Hesse

....the longer I look, the more convinced I am she's the perfect storm and I'm lost at sea."-Andrew — Ginger Scott

I used to fight back the inner resistance within me before when for a while I thought this keeps me from living the life I was born to enjoy. But then I realized that this "madness" inside me is not at all a destructive force but a raging "storm" which needs to come out for me to fully discover my potential. This wondrous "storm" helped me to unravel the secrets of my being - of my purpose and true calling. Now, I come to embrace wholeheartedly who I am and why I was born." - "My Storm", Author/Poet Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo — Elizabeth E. Castillo

The Tree and the Reed
"Well, little one," said a Tree to a Reed that was growing at its foot, "why do you not plant your feet deeply in the ground, and raise your head boldly in the air as I do?"
"I am contented with my lot," said the Reed. "I may not be so grand, but I think I am safer."
"Safe!" sneered the Tree. "Who shall pluck me up by the roots or bow my head to the ground?" But it soon had to repent of its boasting, for a hurricane arose which tore it up from its roots, and cast it a useless log on the ground, while the little Reed, bending to the force of the wind, soon stood upright again when the storm had passed over.
Obscurity often brings safety. — Aesop

Elisa, tell me truly. Have you attained that kind of power? The kind that would frighten an animagus?"
"I have."
Her eyes widen and her lips part. She says to Storm, "You always speak truly, yes?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"You are also an animagus, are you not?"
"I am."
"And you believe my sister has the kind of power she claims?"
"No," he says. "She is being modest. — Rae Carson

I exist in the eye of the storm, the calm in the centre of a perpetual hurricane of cars and lorries heading for the M6, the north and Scotland, or south to Penzance and Land's End. I sometimes wonder if they don't go on the motorway at all, that I hear the same vehicles circling endlessly, a kind of multiple Flying Dutchman, doomed to travel for ever. I don't regret for one minute that I am no longer one of them. — Clare Morrall

I shirk not. I long for work. I pant for a life full of striving. I am no coward, to shrink before the rugged rush of the storm, nor even quail before the awful shadow of the Veil. But hearken, O Death! Is not this my life hard enough, - is not that dull land that stretches its sneering web about me cold enough, - is not all the world beyond these four little walls pitiless enough, but that thou must needs enter here, - thou, O Death? — W.E.B. Du Bois

I carry their beauty inside the very soul of my being. Dark with shades of grey. White with storm clouds in the distance. Because of dad and mom, I am not afraid to dream of dark victories and black beauty. I'm not afraid to be in love with the night — Diane Keaton

Fate whispers to the warrior, 'You can not withstand the storm.'
The warrior whispers back, 'I am the storm. — Unknown

I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don't know if I am a falcon, or a storm, or a great song. — Rainer Maria Rilke

The devil whispers "you cannot withstand the storm". The warrior replies "I am the storm". — Anonymous

And still the storm approaches. And there's nothing I can do. So I wait and watch and feel his breath against my face, cool and brave. His salt licks my skin, his promise brushes my hair. His fury drives the wind to touch my cheek and whisper something I can't hear.
I think he loves me.
I think he comes to see me.
I am young. I will learn — Terry Moore

I bear my witness that the worst days I have ever had have turned out to be my best days. And when God has seemed most cruel to me he has then been most kind. If there is anything in this world for which I would bless him more than for anything else it is for pain and affliction. I am sure that in these things the richest tenderest love has been manifested to me. Our Father's wagons rumble most heavily when they are bringing us the richest freight of the bullion of his grace. Love letters from heaven are often sent in black-edged envelopes. The cloud that is black with horror is big with mercy. Fear not the storm. It brings healing in its wings and when Jesus is with you in the vessel the tempest only hastens the ship to its desired haven. — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

SENSE OF SOMETHING COMING: I am like a flag in the center of open space.
I sense ahead the wind which is coming, and must live
it through.
while the things of the world still do not move:
the doors still close softly, and the chimneys are full
of silence,
the windows do not rattle yet, and the dust still lies down.
I already know the storm, and I am troubled as the sea.
I leap out, and fall back,
and throw myself out, and am absolutely alone
in the great storm. — Rainer Maria Rilke

I am like a mariner born and bred on board a buccaneer brig whose soul has become so inured to storm and strife that if cast ashore he would weary and languish no matter how alluring the shady groves and how bright the gentle sun. — Mikhail Lermontov

If I am preoccupied with the changes my storm has created and concentrating on my scars, I will not be able to recognize Jesus. — Jan Harrison

The night was shadows and wind and the smell of a storm on the way, a night for crying until the tears were gone but the ache was left. A night for imagining that you could step out onto the windowsill and say hello to the dark, say I am sad and have the wind say I know. You could say I am alive and the trees would sigh back We are too. You could whisper I am alone and everything ends and the stars in the sky would answer We understand. Or maybe it's ghosts telling you all these things, saying We know, we're alone too, we understand how everything and nothing ends. — Ally Condie

I have occupied this idle, empty winter with writing a story. It has been written to please myself, without thought of my own vanity or modesty, without regard for other people's feelings, without considering whether I shock or hurt the living, without scrupling to speak of the dead.

The world, I know, is changing. I am not indifferent to the revolution that has caught us in its mighty skirts, to the enormity of the flood that is threatening to submerge us. But what could I do? In the welter of the surrounding storm, I have taken refuge for a moment on this little raft, constructed with the salvage of my memory. I have tried to steer it into that calm haven of art in which I still believe. I have tried to avoid some of the rocks and sandbanks that guard its entrance.

[from the introduction] — Dorothy Bussy

I am convinced it is, then our churches are filled with believers who are hurting, to one degree or another, whether visible or unseen. Some come every Sunday clinging to a thread of hope that somehow the church will be the body of Christ that supports them, offers a word of hope, and helps them find a way to walk through the storm with God instead of without God. — Glenn Pemberton

I am not delicate.
I am skinny dipping at 2am;
I am dancing naked under the full moon and playing in the mud.
I am the reverberating echoes of a curse word ricocheting off the steeply sloping mountain you thought I couldn't climb;
I am bare skin in the deepest depths of winter; I am the song of courage, and the melody of freedom you long to sing.
I am a fearless mother.
I am a passionate lover; a devoted friend.
I am the healer, the witch, the nurturing of your wounds.
I am the heat of a wildfire, the rage of a storm.
I am strong.
Delicate things are pretty-cute, even.
But I am not delicate.
I am wild, fierce and unpredictable.
I am breathtaking.
I am beautiful.
I am sacred. — Brooke Hampton

I am not bound over to swear allegiance to any master; where the storm drives me I turn in for shelter. — Horace

Things I learned from a man called "The Nazarene"
1- Being poor does not equal being miserable.
2- People will judge you, but their judgment should not define who you are.
3- Going against what others hold as true is not necessarily a bad thing.
4- Everyone is sacred.
5- Life is sometimes a lonely and dry place, like desert, but those times are there to help us meditate on what is truly important in our lives.
6- Complaining or getting angry because there is a storm in our lives solves nothing; embrace the storm and keep calm.
7- Treasure and protect the children of the world, they hold the key of what is pure and innocent; they are the way to freedom.
8- We are free to be who we want to be, it is our choice to be slaves or kings.
9- Fear nothing.
10- The person you don't like is also your neighbor.
11- The words following "I AM" define who we are, we must choose wisely. — Martin Suarez

Take off your sweater in the darkness and static flares as a tiny lightning storm - I am the same at the end of your fingertips ... — John Geddes

What part of your duty am I?"
He squeezed her hand. "You're the ray of sun at the center of the storm. — Courtney Milan

We have been created as recipients. I look at the stars, at the grass, at my fat-faced children, at my fingernails, and I am oppressed by gratitude
I have been given a belly so that I might hunger. I have been given hunger so that I might be fed.
I look in the atheist's mirror. I look at his faith in the nonexistence of meaning. I look at his preaching and painting. I see nothing but a shit-storm.
Why would I walk through that door? Why would I live in your novel? — N.D. Wilson

When she spoke, the words were rote, taught to her by her captors, dead and empty, and forced. But her voice was rough, like silk torn by sharp diamonds, and I believed, truly, that she wanted nothing more than to disappear into the Tower and never emerge again.
"Please, Saint Sigrid, take me in from the storm and teach me to steer through darkness, for I am lost, and I cannot see the shore."
I did not move for a long moment. Then, slowly, I reached out my hand to her and whispered, "Come, Lady, I will cut your hair for you."
Her hand slipped into mine, hard and cool. — Catherynne M Valente

I am prepared. The more pressure there is, the stronger I am. In Portugal, we say the bigger the ship, the stronger the storm. Fortunately for me, I have always been in big ships. FC Porto was a very big ship in Portugal, Chelsea was also a big ship in England and Inter was a great ship in Italy. Now I'm at Real Madrid, which is considered the biggest ship on the planet. — Jose Mourinho

I feel as if I am the eye of my own storm, still, like the mermaid, at the center of my own chaos. — Raffaella Barker

I am made of death. I am the Great Leveller. I am the storm in the High Places." The Bloody-Nine's voice, but it came from his own throat. The hall was strewn with fallen men and fallen statues, scattered with bits of both. "You." Shivers pointed his bloody axe at the last of them, cringing at the far end of the dusty hallway. "I see you there, fucker. No one gets away." He realised he was talking in Northern. The man couldn't understand a word he said. Hardly mattered, though. He reckoned he got the gist. — Joe Abercrombie

I live my life in widening circle That reach out across the world. I may not ever complete the last one, But I give myself to it. I circle around God, that primordial tower. I have been circling for thousands of years, And I still don't know: am I a falcon, A storm, or a great song? [I, 2] — Rainer Maria Rilke

I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 a.m., gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes. — Anna Peters

You forgot 'dashingly handsome.' Dear friend is nice but hardly covers the extent of my qualities."

Eleanor looks up from her own letter writing. "How did she describe me? Because I have always preferred my eyes to be referred to as the 'color of a storm-tossed sea.' If either of you were wondering."

"You did not fare much better. In fact, I think I am ahead. I am a 'dear friend,' and you are merely 'recently ill. — Kiersten White

A Storm In April"

Some winters, taking leave,
Deal us a last, hard blow,
Salting the ground like Carthage
Before they will go.

But the bright, milling snow
Which throngs the air today -
It is a way of leaving
So as to stay.

The light flakes do not weigh
The willows down, but sift
Through the white catkins, loose
As petal-drift

Or in an up-draft lift
And glitter at a height,
Dazzling as summer's leaf-stir
Chinked with light.

This storm, if I am right,
Will not be wholly over
Till green fields, here and there,
Turn white with clover,
And through chill air the puffs of milkweed hover. — Richard Wilbur

This music ebbs and flows, irregular, sad. It reminds me, weirdly, of watching the ocean during a bad storm, the lashing, crashing waves and the spray of sea foam against the docks; the way it takes your breath away, the power and the hugeness of it.
That's exactly what happens as I listen to the music, as I come up over the final crest of hill, and the half-ruined barn and collapsing farmhouse fan out in front of me, just as the music swells, a wave about to break: The breath leaves my body all at once, and I'm struck dumb by the beauty of it. For a second it seems to me like I really am looking down at the ocean - a sea of people, writhing and dancing in the light spilling down from the barn like shadows twisting up around a flame. — Lauren Oliver

Often, very often, I am alone. My studio in Amsterdam, (Beckmann lived in the center of Amsterdam during World War 2.) an enormous old tobacco storeroom is again filled in my imagination with figures from the old days and from the new, like an ocean moved by storm and sun and always present in my thoughts. Then shapes become beings and seem comprehensible to me in the great void and uncertainty of the space which I call god. — Max Beckmann

I am grains of sand in a storm made of Alec, scattering in his fierce wind and spinning back. Out to my limits and then retracted. Billow and fall. But the wind gusts into something even stronger, something more, and with one final, unstoppable spiral out, I dissolve into absolutely nothing but a leftover pulse of a girl that used to exist. And an exhausted Cheshire smile. — Riley Edgewood

I don't worry about the storms, I am learning to sail my own ship. — Louisa May Alcott

I am sorry," I whispered to Reyes.
He wrapped his long fingers around my neck and buried his face in my hair. He smelled like a lightening storm. His emotions electricity. His body the desert after a rain. Fresh. Starkly beautiful. Dangerous.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath on my neck.
"I am now. — Darynda Jones

She pulled away to gaze into his eyes with a startling vulnerability, desperately seeking a harbor in the storm. In his eyes lay wisdom far beyond his years, shades of ocean waters traced within lakes of finely ground cobalt."
"I am a Cowboy — Ken Alexopoulos

It is amazing, is it not, Darcy, how a violent storm can rise up out of calm, idle waters so unexpectedly? I am always surprised, but never caught off guard. We can be travelling through what we think are tranquil waters, believing everything is going exactly as planned, heading in the exact direction we want, when in the blink of an eye, everything around us is jostled, tossed around, and completely shaken up. When it has passed, we are not at all where we thought we would be when we first set out. — Kara Louise

I am less affected by their heroism who stood up for half an hour in the front line at Buena Vista, than by the steady and cheerful valor of the men who inhabit the snow-plow for their winter quarters; who have not merely the three-o'-clock-in-the-morning courage, which Bonaparte thought was the rarest, but whose courage does not go to rest so early, who go to sleep only when the storm sleeps or the sinews of their iron steed are frozen. — Henry David Thoreau

The storm is not yours," Gregori stated. "Jacques has grown far more powerful than I realized. There is a darkness in him unlike any I have ever observed. He is not vampire, but he is truly dangerous. Let us go in and see if I can repair the damage."
"Go carefully, Gregori," Mikhail cautioned.
The silver eyes glittered, reflected the driving sheets of rain. "I am known for my careful ways, am I not?" Gregori glided through the broken door; Mikhail, shaking his head over the outrageous lie, followed one step behind. — Christine Feehan

I could not give up either of these worlds, neither the book I am holding nor the gleaming forest, though I have told you almost nothing of what is said here on these grim pages, from the sentences of which I've conjured images of a bleak site years ago. Here in this room, I suppose, is to be found the interior world of the book; but it opens upon a world beyond the windows, where no event has been collapsed into syntax, where the vocabulary, it seems, is infinite. The indispensable connection for me lies with the open space (of the open window ajar year round, never closed) that lets the breath of every winter storm, the ripping wind and its pelting rain, enter the room. — Barry Lopez

I am now at a time of life when I can look back on the past, for my soul has been refined in the crucible of interior and exterior trials. Now, like a flower after the storm, I can raise my head and see that the words of the Psalm are realised in me: "The Lord is my Shepherd and I shall want nothing. He hath set me in a place of pasture. He hath brought me up on the water of refreshment. He hath converted my soul. He hath led me on the paths of justice for His own Name's sake. For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evils for Thou are with me."[6] — Therese, Saint De Lisieux