Forests Quotes - Page 39

• The trees bathed their great heads in the waves of the morning, while their roots were planted deep in gloom; save where on the borders of the sunshine broke against their stems, or swept in long streams through their avenues, washing with brighter hue all the leaves over which it flowed; revealing the rich brown of the dacayed leaves and fallen pine-cones, and the delicate greens of the long grasses and tiny forests of moss that covered the channel over which it passed in the motionless rivers of light.

  George MacDonald

  Morning, Sunshine, Light

  George Macdonald (2013). “The Princess Treasury”, p.341, Simon and Schuster

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• The soil under the grass is dreaming of a young forest, and under the pavement the soil is dreaming of grass.

  Wendell Berry

  Dream, Pavement, Soil

  Wendell Berry (2006). “Given: Poems”, p.4, Counterpoint

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• At this moment, you are seamlessly flowing with the cosmos. There is no difference between your breathing and the breathing of the rain forest, between your bloodstream and the world’s rivers, between your bones and the chalk cliffs of Dover.

  Deepak Chopra

  Spiritual, Rain, Breathing

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• Suppose the looking glass smashes, the image disappears, and the romantic figure with the green of forest depths all about it is there no longer, but only that shell of a person which is seen by other people - what an airless, shallow, bald, prominent world it becomes! A world not to be lived in. As we face each other in omnibuses and underground railways we are looking into the mirror that accounts for the vagueness, the gleam of glassiness, in our eyes.

  Virginia Woolf

  Eye, Glasses, Mirrors

  Virginia Woolf (2017). “A arte da brevidade: Contos”, p.7, Autêntica

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• Here in the trees it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed me indoors. Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clear-cut bedroom. Bella Swan Stephenie Meyer

  Stephenie Meyer

  Believe, Cutting, Swans

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• All forests have their own personality. I don't just mean the obvious differences, like how an English woodland is different from a Central American rain forest, or comparing tracts of West Coast redwoods to the saguaro forests of the American Southwest... they each have their own gossip, their own sound, their own rustling whispers and smells. A voice speaks up when you enter their acres that can't be mistaken for one you'd hear anyplace else, a voice true to those particular tress, individual rather than of their species.

  Charles de Lint

  Rain, Mean, Voice

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• Oh, I don’t mean you’re handsome, not the way people think of handsome. Your face seems kind. But your eyes - they’re beautiful. They’re wild, crazy, like some animal peering out of a forest on fire.

  Charles Bukowski

  Beautiful, Crazy, Mean

  Charles Bukowski (2007). “Women”, Ecco

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• Forests and meat animals compete for the same land. The prodigious appetite of the affluent nations for meat means that agribusiness can pay more than those who want to preserve or restore the forest. We are, quite literally, gambling with the future of our planet – for the sake of hamburgers

  Peter Singer

  Mean, Animal, Gambling

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• He had had a severe shock some weeks earlier, when, having narrowly failed to capture a large grey-brown hare for his dinner, it had stopped at the edge of the forest, looked at him with disdain, and said, 'Well, I hope you're proud of yourself, that's all,' and had scampered off into the long grass

  Neil Gaiman

  Long Grass, Proud, Dinner

  Neil Gaiman (2007). “Neil Gaiman and Charles Vess's Stardust: Being a Romance Within the Realms of Faerie”, Vertigo

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• The fuel on which science runs is ignorance. Science is like a hungry furnace that must be fed logs from the forests of ignorance that surround us. In the process, the clearing we call knowledge expands, but the more it expands, the longer its perimeter and the more ignorance comes into view.

  Matt Ridley

  Running, Ignorance, Views

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• if you force yourself to be the same as everyone else. It causes neuroses, psychoses, and paranoia. it's a distortion of nature, it goes against God's laws, for in all the world's woods and forests he did not create a single leaf the same as another.

  Paulo Coelho

  Law, Psychosis, Neurosis

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• She devoured stories with rapacious greed, ranks of black marks on white, sorting themselves into mountains and trees, stars, moons and suns, dragons, dwarfs, and forests containing wolves, foxes and the dark.

  A. S. Byatt

  Stars, Dark, Moon

  A.S. Byatt (2011). “Ragnarok: the End of the Gods”, p.10, Canongate Books

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• A Boat O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival and he started crying when he saw the Ferris wheel. Electric green and red tears flowed down his furry cheeks. He looked like a boat out on the dark water.

  Richard Brautigan

  Beautiful, Dark, Evil

  Richard Brautigan (1989). “Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America, The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster, and In Watermelon Sugar”, p.148, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• He was smiling again, his face alight, and Ivy knew her own expression was a mirror to his. Ivoleyn, he said, softly now, as if testing the word. And she replied, Dashton. Then their hands parted, but only so they might come closer, like two trees twining together to stand as one in a forest of green.

  Galen Beckett

  Mirrors, Expression, Hands

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• A forest," William said, his expression distant. "Where the ground is dry soil and stone. Where tall trees grow and centuries of autumn carpet their roots. Where the wind smells of game and wildflowers." "Why, that was lovely, Lord Bill. Do you ever write poetry? Something for your blueblood lady?" "No." "She doesn't like poetry?" "Leave it." Hehe. "Oh, so you have a lady. How interes--

  Ilona Andrews

  Writing, Autumn, Expression

  Ilona Andrews (2010). “Bayou Moon”, p.55, Penguin

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• Anyone who doesn't believe that the forest is a deadly place has never been lost in one.

  Laurell K. Hamilton

  Believe, Lost

  Laurell K. Hamilton (2011). “Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 1-5”, p.1856, Penguin

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• He watched them grow, until eventually, great forests of words had risen throughout Germany.... It was a nation of farmed thoughts.

  Markus Zusak

  Germany, Grows, Risen

  Markus Zusak (2014). “Markus Zusak: The Book Thief & I Am the Messenger”, p.444, Knopf Books for Young Readers

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• I will honor my ancestors in StarClan," Bramblestar vowed, "but not those who have ever walked in the Dark Forest. Guide my steps wisely, warriors of the past." He lowered his head. "And warriors of now".

  Erin Hunter

  Warrior, Dark, Past

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• Forest deep, silent bells There's a secret no one tells Valley quiet, water still Lynburns watching on the hill Apples red, corn gold Almost everyone grows old

  Sarah Rees Brennan

  Apples, Water, Secret

  Sarah Rees Brennan (2012). “Unspoken (The Lynburn Legacy Book 1)”, p.4, Random House Books for Young Readers

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• After almost two hours of creeping around the forest, one of the jacks discovered Belen. He had fallen asleep, and the young man had literally tripped over him. So much for his reputation.

  Maria V. Snyder

  Men, Two, Reputation

  Maria V. Snyder (2013). “Scent of Magic”, p.138, Harlequin

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• By the time it came to the edge of the Forest, the stream had grown up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it said to itself, “There is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” But all the little streams higher up in the Forest went this way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it was too late.

  A. A. Milne

  Running, Rivers, Too Late

  A. A. Milne (2011). “The House at Pooh Corner”, p.73, Egmont UK

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• At last I took one big, callused hand and slid forward so I knelt on the boards between his knees. I laid my head against his chest, and felt his breath stir my hair. I had no words, but I had made my choice. "'Whither thou goest,'" I said. "'I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.' Be it Scottish hill or southern forest. You do what you have to; I'll be there.

  Diana Gabaldon

  Hair, Hands, People

  Diana Gabaldon (1997). “Drums of Autumn”

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• And beyond the timeless meadows and emerald pastures, the rabbit holes and moss-covered oak and rowan trees and the "slippy sloppy" houses of frogs, the woodland-scented wind rushed between the leaves and blew around the gray veil that dipped below the fells, swirling up in a mist, blurring the edges of the distant forest. (View from Windermere in the Lake District)

  Susan Branch

  Lakes, Views, Wind

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• We don't want to focus on the trees (or their leaves) at the expense of the forest.

  Douglas Hofstadter

  Focus, Tree, Want

  Douglas R. Hofstadter (2013). “I Am a Strange Loop”, p.27, Basic Books

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• Being the only female in what was basically a boys’ club must have been difficult for her. Miraculously, she didn’t compensate by becoming hard or quarrelsome. She was still a girl, a slight lovely girl who lay in bed and ate chocolates, a girl whose hair smelled like hyacinth and whose scarves fluttered jauntily in the breeze. But strange and marvelous as she was, a wisp of silk in a forest of black wool, she was not the fragile creature one would have her seem.

  Donna Tartt

  Girl, Boys, Hair

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