Quotes About Desert

'Walking the Bible' describes the year that I spent retracing the five books of Moses through the desert, and I was actually working on a follow-up, which would look at the rest of the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament.

I'm most passionate about anything to do with nature and the simple things. I love taking walks with my family or my friends and seeing nature. And that's why I love living where I live because I live up in the desert area in the mountains.

I grew up in Arizona and have a lot of buddies that are cowpokes.

For the 'Rai-kirah' books, I began with the image of Aleksander riding the great wastelands, and that quickly morphed into the desert. Because I wanted my slave market cold and miserable, I chose to set the opening scene in the empire's summer capital in the mountains.

I did grow up next door to Steve McQueen, who was a very famous movie star at the time, but as a kid it didn't impress me. We always had great fun with him. He would take us out on Sundays on his motorcycles, riding around in the desert; he was like a second father.

Don't you think it would be great to do a bunch of Nicorette commercials? Just, like, me in the desert, kind of Marlboro Man-style, driving a fast car, pulling over, looking at the sunset. Dissolving in ecstasy. Can't you see it? Me blowing huge Nicorette bubbles.

Arizona is gorgeous. The sunshine in Arizona is gorgeous red.

Cerrando los ojos, volviendo la cabeza, escuchando. Oh que viento solitario. México es un país raro. Todo selvas y desiertos y extensiones solitarias y aquí y allí un pueblo pequeño como éste, con unaa pocas luces encendidas que puedes apagar con un castañeo de los dedos.

There it sat, perfect as a fresh-laid egg on the dead sea bottom, the only nucleus of light and warmth in hundreds of miles of lonely wasteland. It was like a heart beating alone in a great dark body. He felt almost sorrowful with pride, gazing at it with wet eyes.

Quando ci dimentichiamo quanto siano vicine la notte, e le selvagge solitudini, qualche giorno il deserto verrà a prenderci, perché avremo dimenticato quanto terribile e reale possa essere.

To cut oneself entirely from one's kind is impossible. To live in a desert one must be a saint.

Men gifted with intuition and imagination find water in the desert, and they create cities where formerly other men only saw a desert and a wilderness.

In the legends of the saints and the prophets, either a desert or a mountain is pretty sure to figure. It is usually in the middle of one or on the top of the other that the vision comes or the test is met. To give their message to the world they come down or come out, but it is almost invariably in a solitude, either high or dry, that it is first revealed.

I walk. I talk. I shop. I sneeze. I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There's trees in the desert since you moved out, and I don't sleep on a bed of bones.

Uno platica aquí y las palabras se calientan en la boca con el calor de afuera, y se le resecan a uno en la lengua hasta que acaban con el resuello.

Uno ha creído a veces, en medio de este camino sin orillas, que nada habría después; que no se podría encontrar nada al otro lado, al final de esta llanura rajada de grietas y de arroyos secos. Pero sí, hay algo. Hay un pueblo. Se oye que ladran los perros y se siente en el aire el olor del humo, y se saborea ese olor de la gente como si fuera una esperanza.

Religion can mean solace and serenity, a kind of security, a private small garden of kindness in a desert of cruelty that seems to stretch out as far as they can see.

As moonlight unto sunlight is that desert sage to other greens.

The people celebrate with our traditional dancing: the women clapping their hands and chanting, their low sweet voices humming across the desert night, and the men leaping high into the air. Everyone contributes food, and we eat

They have plundered the world, stripping naked the land in their hunger . . . they are driven by greed, if their enemy be rich; by ambition, if poor. . . . They ravage, they slaughter, they seize by false pretenses, and all of this they hail as the construction of empire. And when in their wake nothing remains but a desert, they call that peace. —Tacitus, Roman senator and historian1

The more local and settled a culture, the better it stays put, the less the damage. It is the foreigner whose road of excess leads to a desert a man with a machine and inadequate culture is a pestilence. He shakes more than he can hold.

O source of equity and rest... Disturb our negligence and chill, Convict our pride of its offence In all things, even penitence, Instruct us in the civil art Of making from the muddled heart A desert and a city where The thoughts that have to labor there May find locality and peace, And pent-up feelings their release, Send strength sufficient for our day, And point our knowledge on its way.

In the desert I had found a freedom unattainable in civilization; a life unhampered by possessions, since everything that was not a necessity was an encumbrance. I had found too, a comradeship inherent in the circumstances, and the belief that tranquility was to be found there.

No man can live this life and emerge unchanged. He will carry, however faint, the imprint of the desert, the brand which marks the nomad; and he will have within him the yearning to return, weak or insistent according to his nature. For this cruel land can cast a spell which no temperate clime can match.