Quotes About Scenery

Colorado is an oasis, an otherworldly mountain place. I've played so many shows in Colorado that I think I'm the Colorado house band.

I grew up in Colorado.

We shot in British Columbia and I miss it. I've actually gone back a couple of times just to see the country. It's beautiful.

I like Palm Springs because of the sunshine. It's a little city surrounded by mountains.

I live in the English countryside, so I'm surrounded by magpies.

My house is surrounded on three sides by cornfields.

Working out is for both the mind and body, and being in a beautiful setting is conducive to a more pleasant experience. The more you enjoy your surroundings, the more likely you are to work out longer and harder.

I had the most amazing childhood in the natural surroundings of Assam.

People are starting to know more about it, but I was blown away by Almaty, Kazakhstan. It's like a future Swiss Alps. It has the potential to be an extraordinary ski resort. It is a city with beautiful mountain scapes.

I have been to Switzerland a handful of times, and it is quickly becoming one of my favorite places to climb.

I'm quite fond of Switzerland. I love Switzerland.

The land beyond rose into dizzying mountains. Far across the way a frozen waterfall resembled a charging lion. The trees were shrouded in white, a vision of the heavens.

Higher and higher we climbed, crawling at a snail's pace until we came to the little settlement called Truckee, looking like something from a Christmas card scene.

Ralph Waldo Emerson could write (in The Conduct of Life, 1860): 'The influence of fine scenery, the presence of mountains, appeases our irritations and elevates our friendships.' Mountains

The quiet troubling of the river, and the clean, washed stones, and the green all about, and the trees trying to drown their shadows, and the mountain going up and up behind, there is beautiful it was.

farms on the lower slopes of the mountain. As the eye moved from

Shropshire, the fatlands of Gloucestershire

the English landscape at its finest - such as I saw it this morning - possesses a quality that the landscapes of other nations, however more superficially dramatic, inevitably fail to possess.

In the fall when they burn the stubble off the fields the sun gets this dusty hazy color, and the mare's-tail clouds whipping along near Wakonda Head look like goldenrod bent over by the wind. It's always real pretty. You can almost hear it ring in the sky.

I looked out of the front porch

But, look, the morn in russet mantle clad,Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.

Beaches are the same the world over. . . . I don't mean to be ironic. California is that way naturally. It's hard to do malice to California.

For all the glories I have seen, the mountains and the seas and the horizon itself, stretching to the furthest reaches of the eye, there is nothing to touch an English morning in spring.

Aubignane, like a small wasps' nest, was stuck against the salient of the plateau. It was true that only three persons remained there. A grassless slope went down from the village. Almost at the bottom, there was a patch of soft earth and the wiry hair of a stunted osier bed. Below was a narrow valley with a little water.