Quotes About Trees

There was a silence gathered all about that fire and the silence was in the men's faces, and time was there, time enough to sit by this rusting track under the trees, and look at the world and turn it over with the eyes, as if it were held to the center of the bonfire, a piece of steel these men were all shaping.

The town was so quiet and far off you could hear only the crickets sounding in the spaces beyond the hot indigo trees that hold back the stars.

The first light on the roof outside; very early morning. The leaves on all the trees tremble with a soft awakening to any breeze the dawn may offer.

And he was gesturing up through the trees above to show them how it was woven across the sky or how the sky was woven into the trees, he wasn't sure which. But there it was, he smiled, and the weaving went on, green and blue, if you watched and saw the forest shift its humming loom.

I'll never forget today! I'll always remember, I know! Grandfather looked up through the cellar window at the late-summer trees stirring in a colder wind. Of course you will, Tom, he said. Of course you will.

Going up that river was like travelling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings.

Remontar ese río era como viajar a los comienzos de la creación, cuando la vegetación emergió a la tierra y los árboles fueron sus reyes.

The perception of solidity also comes from observing things from a distance. When we look at an ordinary object like a chair or a table, it appears quite solid. Yet if we put that same object under a powerful microscope, whole new worlds emerge. When we look at trees from a distance, we just see an undifferentiated mass of color. But as we get closer, we can distinguish individual leaves, and even the small distinct parts of the leaves.

All well and good, but for our purposes these otherwise-valuable insights are mere subplots almost designed to carry us down side trails while blithely humming a tune about the rough equivalence of forests and trees.

Y en días de aire se ve al viento arrastrando hojas de árboles, cuando aquí, como tu ves, no hay árboles. Los hubo en algún tiempo, porque si no ¿de dónde saldrían esas hojas?

You like it under the trees in autumn, Because everything is half dead.

part together. This struck me as important. But 2 percent is always alive. From a certain microbiological standpoint, trees are immortal. I think history is like this. We cannot capture much more than the trees do of what is living about history. The rest is solid cortex. It stands and is of use to the living part.

When we plant trees, we plant the seeds of peace and hope.

When we plant trees, we plant the seeds of peace and seeds of hope. We also secure the future for our children.

JAMES AND THE TROUBLE WITH TREES Thomas the Tank Engine had been working in the coal yards all day.

The going sun chucked a vast spread of red behind the ridgeline. A horizon of red light parsed into shafts by standing trees to throw pink in streaks across the valley snow.

It was a though we'd been living for a year in a dense grove of old trees, a cluster of firs, each with its own rhythm and character, from whom our bodies had drawn not just shelter but perhaps even a kind of guidance as we grew into a family.

God planted the seeds of all the trees," continued Hetty, after a moment's pause, "and you see to what a height and shade they have grown! So it is with the Bible. You may read a verse this year, and forget it, and it will come back to you a year hence, when you least expect to remember it.

They kill good trees to put out bad newspapers.

Time to plant trees is when you're young, So you will have them to walk among - So, aging, you can walk in shade That you and time together made.

The monks who taught me," Hugh explained. "They lived in a monastery in that valley, built between two great trees, trees as eternal as the monks themselves. Under one bower the monks sat to meditate. That tree was called the Tree of Enlightenment. Under the other, the monks drank their wine. That tree was called the Tree of Eternal Life.

...Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees Bending to counterfeit a breeze...

Things of the world try to connect. Prodigal rain issues from a sky into which trees rise like pleading hands. Days bear us lightly across the face of the world as every year the ground pulls harder, recalling like a spurned lover, ever more fixedly, how much it wants us.

sky darkened rapidly, darker every second; the wind rustled the trees in the park and the new leaves on the trees stood out tender and yellow against black clouds.