Quotes About Trees

I am such a Pacific Northwest girl.

It is only in winter that you can tell which trees are evergreen.

I adore water, so it would be a real adventure to visit the Amazon before they chop down all the trees.

I was quite keen on silviculture, the growing of trees, and that was something I gave a lot of thought to. Maybe I could've gone in that direction. But it just so happened that while I was trying to make up my mind, I enrolled in art school, and there I began to develop my interest in music, parallel with my interest in the visual arts.

Sheets of rain were ripping themselves on the apple trees outside the window.

Laat op de avond, als het verkeer op de snelweg eindelijk bedaarde, leken de dennen achter het woonhuis waarachtig te fluisteren.

El sol bajo, en el cielo: luminaria menor, estrella enfriándose. Ráfagas de desorden, sucesivas. Árboles inquietos, temperaturas en descenso

And the posture of the older oak trees reaching toward this sky had a jut, a wildness and entitlement, predating permanent settlement; memories of an unfenced world were written in the cursive of their branches.

Waves, sky, trees, Essrog - I was off the page now, away from the grammar of skyscrapers and pavement.

She found the company that made her favorite architectural model trees. They weren't the most realistic, they weren't even well made. She didn't like them because they evoked trees but because they evoked the sadness that trees evoke.

Man kann auch die Waldbrandgefahr mindern, indem man sämtliche Bäume fällt.

I found courage in the countryside, in nature. Being alone never frightened me, even at night, provided I was in contact with my surroundings - with the grass underfoot, with the dim shapes of trees and distant mountains. This was what I clung to.

LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide.

Give me a land of boughs in leaf A land of trees that stand; Where trees are fallen there is grief; I love no leafless land.

Les bouleaux sont fins et malingres. au sud de la Suède, les arbres à membres fins commencent à fleurir. Les magnolias et les cerisiers, comme des jeunes filles endimanchées dans les parcs. Les boulots ici sont fins, oui, mais n'ont rien de jeunes filles. Noueux, hirsutes et courbés comme de vieilles Laponnes, ils guettent le printemps à la lisière de la forêt.

Ma stood for a long moment and took in the panorama. Her gaze moving from left to right, she viewed the perimeter of the ice-covered plain. Three sides of the lake were bordered in marshland. The dusky skeletons of long dead pine trees angled helter-skelter at the verge of the marshes. Beyond, scrub forests of oak and maple in saturnine nakedness stood on the rolling terrain. A dark overcast added to the grimness of the tableau. Ma looked over the expanse of ice toward the old resort.

I begin to think, that a calm is not desirable in any situation in life. Every object is beautiful in motion; a ship under sail, trees gently agitated with the wind, and a fine woman dancing, are three instances in point. Man was made for action and for bustle too, I believe.

Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say,Have ye not seen us walking every day?Was there a tree about which did not knowThe love betwixt us two?

The true and serious beauty of trees, how it seemed insane that they should offer this to us, how unworthy we were, bewildered, how soon we were nearly weeping at their trunks as they tossed down petal after petal, and we tried to remember how it felt to receive and notice the receiving, pink, pink, pink, pink, pink.

Theory-the seeing of patterns, showing the forest as well as the trees

Theory -the seeing of patterns, showing the forest as well as the trees- theory can be a dew that rises from earth and collects in the rain cloud and returns to earth over and over. But if it doesn't smell of the earth, it isn't good for earth. -Notes Toward a Politics of Location

neither have I been able to give an idea of the extreme antiquity, the perfect cleanliness, nor the vibrating song of the cicalas that seems to have been stored away within it, in its parched-up fibres, during hundreds of summers. It does not convey, either, the impression this place gives of being in a far-off suburb, perched aloft among trees, above the drollest of towns. No, all this can not be drawn, can not be expressed, but remains undemonstrable, indefinable.

Eucalyptus trees are for us, pine trees for our children, and cork trees are for our grandchildren

There is a sense in the tree which feels your love and responds to it. It does not respond or show its pleasure in our way or in any way we can now understand.