When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
read more

When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms makes men expect a dearth.

The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and
billows.
[Ger., Der Sturm ist read more

The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and
billows.
[Ger., Der Sturm ist Meister; Wind und Well spielen
Ball mit dem Menschen.]

Your chances of getting struck by lightning go up if you stand under a tree, shake your fist at the read more

Your chances of getting struck by lightning go up if you stand under a tree, shake your fist at the sky, and say "Storms suck!"

Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll,
And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Yet read more

Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll,
And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Yet 'tis Thy voice, my God, that bids them fly,
Thy arm directs those lightnings through the sky.
Then let the good Thy mighty name revere,
And hardened sinners Thy just vengeance fear.

Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
read more

Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud
Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud:
Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears;
And instant death on every wave appears.

Merciful heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
read more

Merciful heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
Than the soft myrtle; but man, proud man,
Dressed in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assured
His glassy essence--like an angry ape
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
would all themselves laugh mortal.

A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
And blow it to the source from whence it came.
read more

A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
And blow it to the source from whence it came.
Thy very beams will dry those vapors up,
For every cloud engenders not a storm.

Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.

Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.

I have heard a greater storm in a boiling pot.

I have heard a greater storm in a boiling pot.