I need not shout my faith. Thrice eloquent Are quiet trees and the green listening sod; Hushed are the stars, whose power is never spent; The hills are mute: yet how they speak of God!
There are just so many stories that are buried on family trees.
People aren't trees, so it is false when they speak of roots.
I was in my yard and thought that the tree was a living being. We take trees for granted. We don't believe they are as much alive as we are.
When you dream too much of the sun, you forget the trees.
Caddy smelled like trees.
Plant the seeds of Love in your hearts. Let them grow into trees of Service and shower the sweet fruit of Ananda. Share the Ananda with all. That is the proper way to celebrate the Birthday
The City is a machine miraculously organised for extracting gold from the seas, airs, clouds, from barren lands, holds of ships, mines, plantations, cottage hearth-stones, trees and rocks; and he, wretchedly waiting in the exterior halls, could not even get his finger on one tiny, tiny lever.
It is much easier for me to define what makes a novel French or Russian, but defining the characteristics of an Australian novel are difficult for me as it is all too close - I can't see the woods for the trees.
Having photographed the landscape for a number of years and specifically working with trees and in the forest I found, without consciously thinking about it, that it was a great learning experience for me in terms of organizing elements.
If the character has the motivation to dance round trees, then I will dance round trees. If the motivation is strong enough, then I'll fly to the moon.
I doubt trees are ever told to 'be the screwed-up ninth-grader. '
Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern. The country is grey and brown and white in trees, snows and skies of laughter always diminishing, less funny not just darker, not just grey. It may be the coldest day of the year, what does he think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, perhaps I am myself again.
It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses we must plant more trees.
The trees that have it in their pent-up buds To darken nature and be summer woods.
Our minds, as well as our bodies, have need of the out-of-doors. Our spirits, too, need simple things, elemental things, the sun and the wind and the rain, moonlight and starlight, sunrise and mist and mossy forest trails, the perfumes of dawn and the smell of fresh-turned earth and the ancient music of wind among the trees.
Plant trees, Lots of trees
Wind is caused by the trees waving their branches.
Vision connects you. But it also separates you. In my work, and my life, I feel a desire to merge. Not in terms of losing my own identity. . . but theres a feeling that life is interconnected, that theres life in stones and rocks and trees and dirt, like there is in us.
Fish and fowl, warm sun and shady trees, the field mice in the wheat, under the cool light of the moon.