Quotes About Forest

The mind is like a monkey swinging from branch to branch through a forest, says the Sutra.

Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one's life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell" (James 3:5 – 6).

Have you never seen a horse before, lass? They doona answer to 'horse.' They have no idea they are horses. 'Tis like sauntering into the forest, saying, 'Here, boar, boar, boar. I should like to roast you for dinner.

We are all raccoon-drunk on moonlight and bloodshed and the heady, underblossom smell of the forest.

The lake water was reinventing the forest and the white moon above it, and wolves lapped up the cold reflection of the sky.

A single tree can make a hundred thousand matches, and a single match can burn a hundred thousand trees.

The dark dangerous forest is still there, my friends. Beyond the space of the astronauts and the astronomers, beyond the dark, tangled regions of Freudian and Jungian psychiatry, beyond the dubious psi-realms of Dr. Rhine, beyond the areas policed by the commissars and priests and motivations-research men, far, far beyond the mad, beat, half-hysterical laughter... the utterly unknown still is and the eerie and ghostly lurk, as much wrapped in mystery as ever.

The full moon rises. The fog clings to the lowest branches of the spruce trees. The man steps out of the darkest corner of the forest and finds himself transformed into... A monkey? I think not.

Voices in the forest tell of dark and twisted enchantments - as dark and twisted as the roots and grasping branches of the trees themselves. Even the most gnarled tree is eloquent in the telling of its own tale.

Well, then," said Lilith, "by all means, show her around. Expose her to the beauty of Mother Earth." A chill went down Arisha's back. She could swear she saw a split tongue in Lilith's mouth. Almost like the garter snakes she had played with in the forest. Maybe it was the mushrooms. She saw three tame looking hyenas sitting off a short distance from Lilith and her children, watching them like loyal dogs—or guardians.

Enkidu never should've killed the guardian of the forest. He should've joined him. That's what too much civilizing does to you.

He inhaled deeply, felt some vestige of strength returning to him, the moon's rays, the stars, and forest air all like food for his starving soul.

In the deep forests of Mount Rainier, the sun doesn't rise, it leaks in thin bands through the trees.

Nature is the universal playmate, perpetually parodying herself in miniature for the benefit of those who love to amuse themselves with her toys. Every brook is a little river, every pond an unfathomable sea. She plants tiny forests of fern and raises microscopic mountains in every sand-bank.

As in dark forests, measureless along the crests of hills, a conflagration soars, and the bright bed of fire glows for miles, now fiery lights from this great host in bronze played on the earth and flashed high into heaven.

soon you could see his speed and his strength for yourself. Never could any wild animal, in the profound depths of the forest, escape, once he pursued. He was very clever at tracking. But now he is in bad times. His master, far from his country, has perished, and the women are careless, and do not look after him; 320 and serving men, when their masters are no longer about, to make them work, are no longer willing to do their rightful duties.

IN MERRY ENGLAND in the time of old, when good King Henry the Second ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest, near Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood.

These were the days of fond promise, when the world was very small and there wasstill magic in it. He told them stories o fthe Secret Mountain and the Sound that could be Seen, of the Forest drowned by Sand and the trees that were time-stilled waters (...) Then, every day was a week, each month a year. A season was a decade, and every year a life.

Two hours. More than enough time to kidnap a man. Or to slice his throat, bury him in the forest, and steal his magic project. How the hell did de Harven fit into it? Did he surprise the thieves? Of course, Adam Kamen could've killed his uber-bodyguard and bolted with the goods. Because he was secretly a ninja, adept at mortal combat and vanishing into thin air. Yes, that was it. Case solved.

When I signed on and went and did 'Catching Fire,' the majority of it was done in Atlanta for rebate reasons. Luckily, that worked because there's forest. There's old rail stations and factories and lots of stuff we can use and sound stages. For the tropical stuff, we went to Hawaii.

She glared at him. 'You've started, haven't you?' 'No, lass. You did. Remember what I said about natural talent? You've got it by the bucketful.' 'I never cry,' she said as he led her off the trail into the adjacent forest. 'Of course not,' he replied. 'You've got the warren right there in your head, and you've spent most of your life manipulating it like a High Mage. Anything to keep going, right?

Poor Vicretia was pale as a forest flower, trembling uncontrallably. Yet even in her fear there was anticipation, excitement.

Shan knew he had been walking in the forest of winter for a long time, but from that moment the days would grown longer and light would return to the land of his soul.

The Gardens seemed like a huge, dark forest that stretched into eternity, peopled by creatures who were strangers to the world outside, a timeless place of enchantment. The pathways were dark tunnels at the end of which anything might greet the unwary traveller.