Quotes About Forest

A great Austrian painter -- he lives in a forest in Hungary -- came by the apartment one day with his daughters, both red-headed with pigtails, pale-faced, silent. They wore the kind of clothes you can't buy in any shop, you have to get them delivered direct from the turn of the century.

Bong country is beautiful. Lush green forest, a sweet breeze. There are pygmy hippopotamuses here and monkeys; a sense of Liberia's possibilities. Rich in natural resources, cool in the hills, hot on the beach.

in de woods." "It is a whole heap littler than Ah thought." Janie admitted her

La canoa se deslizaba costeando el bosque, o lo que podía parecer bosque en aquella oscuridad. Más por instinto que por indicio alguno Subercasaux sentía

Up rose Robin Hood

But now I know it is the earthAnd not the water that is unstable,For at every rise and fall of the pellucid tideIt seems as though it were the shingleAnd the waving forest of sea-growthThat moves—and not the water!

MIDSUMMER: the shortest night. The year on its side. Joblard is to marry. To make that act, that avowal: St Bartholomew-the-Great. The Chemical Wedding, sponsus and sponsa, merging in song, twisting around the columns of that stone forest; celebrated here in the blending of russian stout, nigredo, with dry blackthorn cider. The risks crowd us, cackle; magpies at the window.

More often than not, the wolves showed themselves in other ways—a track etched in the mud, a few scats here and there, the well-chewed, moss-covered bones of a Sitka blacktailed deer, and, most frequently and possibly most grand of all, a late-evening chorus of howls heard from the deck of our boat at a lonely anchorage. The sound echoed softly off the high granite walls of some slope or side hill, somewhere where the wolves hunted in the vast sea of verdant rain forest.

Holzwege são, em alemão, os caminhos na floresta abertos pelos lenhadores para poder transportar os troncos depois do corte: por esses caminhos não se vai para lugar algum, só se entra na floresta até chegar a um ponto de onde só dá para voltar. Deveríamos todos percorrer com alegria, na nossa cultura e no nosso pensamento, caminhos que não precisam ir a lugar nenhum, que apenas nos dão acesso a alguns buracos na floresta.

She had made Matthew want to smile. With her luminous skin, her exotic cinnamon-colored eyes and quicksilver expressions, Daisy Bowman seemed to have come from an enchanted forest populated with mythical creatures.

Disconcerted by his swift change of mood, Lottie led him out of the forest to a sunken road. The morning sun rose higher, chasing the lavender from the sky and warming the meadows. The field they passed was filled with heather and emerald spaghnum moss, and dotted with tiny red sundew rosettes.

the dry wind soughed again through the trees, stirring branches as it moved like an invisible spirit through the forest. With the susurration came another thought,

That werewolf fantasy would be a hard one to pull off. She'd have to troll through the forest in high heels, just praying one of the scruffy campers was actually a raving beast.

Under the glimmer of moonlight among towering forest trees, walks the goddess Artemis. Close to her side she carries with her a silver bow and arrows.

I… thanked the Author of my being for the gift of that wild forest, those green mansions where I had found so great a happiness!

intenté escribir lo que fue la «historia de mi vida» en los bosques, inmediatamente después de mi fuga del campo de concentración.

After his dinner, the wolfhound liked to prowl the grounds, sniffing the grass to learn what creatures of field and forest had recently visited. The yard was Merlin's newspaper.

My guess was that when you descended to a certain depth of depravity, the Fogs could smell you as a hound, catching a murderer's spoor, could track the criminal through forest, field, and moor.

far back in the forest. Just when the pavement began to rise again, the headlights caught a sign on the left that announced FIRE ROAD / FORESTRY DEPT ONLY. In the absence of a fire, no one would be using that rough dirt track. Mrs. Fischer parked on it, facing out toward the state route, but in far enough among the trees to avoid being seen by passing traffic, of which we had encountered none since turning off the interstate. She damped the headlights, cut the engine.

The mushrooms were grown in the shadow of the Washington rainforest, hand-picked by altar boys.

Animals had returned to what was left of the forest...clusters of orange butterflies exploded off the blackish purple piles of bear sign and winked and fluttered magically like leaves without trees. More bears than people traveled the muddy road, leaving tracks straight up and down the middle of it...

It was raining. Gigantic ferns leaned over us. The forest drifted down a hill. I could hear a creek rushing down among rocks. And you, you ridiculous people, you expect me to help you.

It was raining. Gigantic ferns leaned over us. The forest drifted down a hill. I could hear a creek rushing down among the rocks. And you, you ridiculous people, you expect me to help you.

The moon was beginning to rise when they set out, and a good thing, too, Brianna thought. Even with the big, lopsided gold orb sailing up out of a cradle of stars and shedding its borrowed radiance over the sky, the trail beneath their feet was invisible. So were their feet, drowned in the absolute black of the forest at night.