Woods Quotes - Page 37

• Now are the woods all black, But still the sky is blue.

  Marcel Proust

  Blue, Sky, Black

  Marcel Proust (2006). “Remembrance of Things Past”, p.129, Wordsworth Editions

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• what sets wilderness apart in the modern day is not that it's dangerous (it's almost certainly safer than any town or road) or that it's solitary (you can, so they say, be alone in a crowded room) or full of exotic animals (there are more at the zoo). it's that five miles out in the woods you can't buy anything.

  Bill McKibben

  Zoos, Animal, Exotic

  Bill McKibben (2014). “The Age of Missing Information”, p.124, Random House

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• The dragonets found the carpenters to be even more fascinating than the furniture, and followed the poor men from pen to pen, crowding around to watch, tasting the wooden planks, trying to steal the tools. It made for an interesting day for everyone, as the boys tried to keep the dragonets away from the carpenters, and the dragonets tried to get at the carpenters, and the carpenters worked probably a great deal faster than they ever had in their lives, sure that the dragonets would go from tasting the wood to tasting them.

  Mercedes Lackey

  Men, Boys, Interesting

  Mercedes Lackey (2005). “Alta: Joust #2”, p.170, Penguin

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• A virgin a whole virgin is judged made and so between curves and outlines and real seasons and more out glasses and a perfectly unprecedented arrangement between old ladies and mild colds there is no satin wood shining.

  Gertrude Stein

  Real, Curves, Glasses

  Gertrude Stein (2016). “GERTRUDE STEIN Ultimate Collection: Novels, Short Stories, Poetry, Plays, Memoirs & Essays: Three Lives, Tender Buttons, Geography and Plays, Matisse, Picasso and Gertrude Stein, The Making of Americans, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas…”, p.1292, e-artnow

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• Get off the cross, we need the wood.

  Tori Amos

  Jesus, Recovery, Needs

  Song: Big Wheel, Album: American Doll Posse, 2007

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• Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there. "Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself.

  J. K. Rowling

  Thinking, Funny Harry Potter, Trying

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• What is more cheerful, now, in the fall of the year, than an open-wood-fire? Do you hear those little chirps and twitters coming out of that piece of apple-wood? Those are the ghosts of the robins and blue-birds that sang upon the bough when it was in blossom last Spring. In Summer whole flocks of them come fluttering about the fruit-trees under the window: so I have singing birds all the year round.

  Thomas Bailey Aldrich

  Summer, Spring, Fall

  Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1873). “Marjorie Daw and Other People”, p.168

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• I will remember what I was, I am sick of rope and chains - I will remember my old strength and all my forest affairs. I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugar cane; I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs. I will go out until the day, until the morning break - Out to the wind's untainted kiss, the water's clean caress; I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket stake. I will revisit my lost love and playmates masterless!

  Rudyard Kipling

  Morning, Lost Love, Kissing

  Rudyard Kipling (1993). “The Jungle Book”, p.140, Wordsworth Editions

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• You must converse much with the field and the woods if you would imbibe such health into your mind and spirit as you covet for your body

  Henry David Thoreau

  Mind, Body, Fields

  Henry David Thoreau, Joseph O. Valentine, Thoreau Society (2001). “Thoreau on Land: Nature's Canvas”, p.21, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• The fruition of the year had come and the night should have been fine with a moon in the sky and the crisp sharp promise of frost in the air, but it wasn't that way. It rained and little puddles of water shone under the street lamps on Main Street. In the woods in the darkness beyond the Fair Ground water dripped from the black trees.

  Sherwood Anderson

  Moon, Night, Air

  Sherwood Anderson (1995). “Winesburg, Ohio”, p.104, Courier Corporation

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• Fare well we call to hearth and hall Though wind may blow and rain may fall We must away ere break of day Over the wood and mountain tall To Rivendell where Elves yet dwell In glades beneath the misty fell Through moor and waste we ride in haste And wither then we cannot tell With foes ahead behind us dread Beneath the sky shall be our bed Until at last our toil be sped Our journey done, our errand sped We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Rain, Fall, Blow

  J.R.R. Tolkien (2012). “The Lord of the Rings: One Volume”, p.84, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Once upon a time, there was a little creature that was rather small and rather wicked and it lived all alone in the woods. The little creature lived in a little den, at the bottom of a little ravine, filled with not-at-all little brambles and on the edge of a forest that could only be described as really freakin' huge.

  Ursula Vernon

  Once Upon A Time, Wicked, Littles

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• A developer is someone who wants to build a house in the woods. An environmentalist is someone who already has a house in the woods.

  Dennis Miller

  House, Want, Cynicism

  Dennis Miller (2010). “Rants”, p.127, Main Street Books

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• And at that moment a wind came out of the northwest, and entered the woods and bared the golden branches, and danced over the downs, and led a company of scarlet and golden leaves, that had dreaded this day but danced now it had come; and away with a riot of dancing and glory of colour, high in the light of the sun that had set from the sight of the fields, went wind and leaves together.

  Lord Dunsany

  Light, Sight, Wind

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• Nothing can happen more than once, but everything must happen one day; Over hill and dale, wood and stream, my dying voice will blow away. . .

  Michael Ende

  Blow, Voice, Dying

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• One should go to the woods for safety, if for nothing else.

  John Muir

  Safety, Should, Ifs

  John Muir (2015). “JOHN MUIR Ultimate Collection: Travel Memoirs, Wilderness Essays, Environmental Studies & Letters (Illustrated): Picturesque California, The Treasures of the Yosemite, Our National Parks, Steep Trails, Travels in Alaska, A Thousand-mile Walk to the Gulf, Save the Redwoods, The Cruise of the Corwin and more”, p.437, e-artnow

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• Suppose you meet me in the woods.

  Eudora Welty

  Eudora Welty (1982). “The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty”, p.264, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• If I am more alive because love burns and chars me, as a fire, given wood or wind, feels new elation, it's that he who lays me low is my salvation, and invigorates the more, the more he scars me.

  Michelangelo

  Inspiration, Fire, Wind

  Michelangelo (2000). “The Complete Poems of Michelangelo”, p.34, University of Chicago Press

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• I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.

  Jack Kerouac

  Wisdom, Home, Tired

  Jack Kerouac (2007). “On the Road: The Original Scroll: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.124, Penguin

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• So imagine a fire going -- wood snapping the way it does when it’s a little green — the wind rattling the windows behind the curtains -- and one of those Chopin melodies that feel like sorrow and ecstasy all mixed together pouring from the keys -- and you have my idea of happiness. Or just reading, reading and lamplight, the sound of pages turning. And so you dare to be happy. You do that thing. You dare.

  Steven Millhauser

  Reading, Fire, Keys

  Steven Millhauser (2007). “The King in the Tree”, p.5, Vintage

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• Once upon a time there was a bear and a bee who lived in a wood and were the best of friends. All summer long the bee collected nectar from morning to night while the bear lay on his back basking in the long grass. When winter came the bear realised he had nothing to eat and thought to himself 'I hope that busy little bee will share some of his honey with me.' But the bee was nowhere to be found - he had died of a stress induced coronary disease.

  Banksy

  Summer, Morning, Stress

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• When there came a sound that I'd never heard the like of in all my born days. Eh, I won't forget that. The whole air was full of it, loud as thunder but far longer, cool and sweet as music over water but strong enough to shake the woods. And I said to myself, 'If that's not the Horn, call me a rabbit.

  C. S. Lewis

  Sweet, Strong, Air

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• She looked at a silver birch: it would have a soft, showery voice and would look like a slender girl, with hair blown all about her face and fond of dancing. She looked at the oak: he would be a wizened, but hearty, old man with a frizzled beard and warts on his fact and hands, with hair growing out of the warts. She looked at the beech under which she was standing. Ah! --she would be the best of all. She would be a gracious goddess, smooth and stately, the Lady of the Wood.

  C. S. Lewis

  Girl, Men, Hair

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• Imagination is the politics of dreams; imagination turns every word into a bottle rocket. . . . Imagine every day is Independence Day and save us from traveling the river changed; save us from hitchhiking the long road home. Imagine an escape. Imagine that your own shadow on the wall is a perfect door. Imagine a song stronger than penicillin. Imagine a spring with water that mends broken bones. Imagine a drum which wraps itself around your heart. Imagine a story that puts wood in the fireplace.

  Sherman Alexie

  Dream, Song, Wall

  FaceBook post by Sherman Alexie from Jun 13, 2016

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• A man of my acquaintance once wrote a poem called "The Road Less Traveled", describing a journey he took through the woods along a path most travelers never used. The poet found that the road less traveled was peaceful but quite lonely, and he was probably a bit nervous as he went along, because if anything happened on the road less traveled, the other travelers would be on the road more frequently traveled and so couldn't hear him as he cried for help. Sure enough, that poet is dead.

  Daniel Handler

  Lonely, Journey, Men

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