wind rose

I was on Charlie Rose recently, and in discussing Marilyn Monroe he asked, what do you think was her great appeal?

There are three things a wise man will not trust: the wind, the sunshine of an April day, and woman's plighted faith.

Bits of paper blew aimlessly about, wafted by a little, feverish breeze, which rose in spasms and died away.

The women at once rose and began to shake out their draperies and relax their muscles.

But there was a breeze blowing, a choppy, stiff wind that whipped the water into froth.

We all rose to our feet, and he shook hands with everybody without waiting to be introduced.