Quotes About Trees

Esperanza's dark beauty brought on images of moonlit skies, night walks on the beach, olive trees in a gentle breeze. She wore hoop earrings. Her long black hair always had the perfect muss to it. Her sheer white blouse had been fitted by a benevolent deity; it may have been open a button too low but it was all working. The

The Maycomb school grounds adjoined the back of the Radley lot; from the Radley chickenyard tall pecan trees shook their fruit into the schoolyard, but the nuts lay untouched by the children: Radley pecans would kill you. A baseball hit into the Radley yard was a lost ball and no questions asked.

I'm not good with hospitals. The endless buildings, trees dotted around like apologies, and inside, it's job functions you can't understand and that air of incomprehensible busyness. Curtained-off beds and death settling like falling snow.

There was a small stand of trees nearby, and from it you could hear the mechanical cry of a bird that sounded as if it were winding a spring. We called it the wind-up bird. Kumiko gave it the name. We didn't know what it was really called or what it looked like, but that didn't bother the wind-up bird. Every day it would come to the stand of trees in our neighborhood and wind the spring of our quiet little world.

Like a great poet, nature knows how to produce the greatest effects with the utmost economy of means: nothing but sun, trees, flowers, water, and love. Of course, if the latter is absent from the beholder's heart, the whole landscape will be an unpleasing sight; then the sun is merely so many miles in diameter, and the trees provide good firewood, and the flowers are classified according to the number of their stamens, and the water is wet.

When I was growing in the Callope project, we had an oval parkway. Pavement ran around this whole thing. We'd skate or ride bicycles. There were benches and trees out there. It was paradise to us. They finished building it the same year I was born.

Dom and I have often agreed that trees are like fish – we ought to know more than we do about the differences between the various types, but we've reached our forties and can still only identify weeping willows and salmon with any certainty.

I relax my thoughts and absorb everything humming around me. The branches with their gray-green leaves. The birds stirring against the dawn.

On the Ning Nang Nong Where the Cows go Bong! And the Monkeys all say Boo! Theres a Nang Nong Ning Where the trees go Ping! And the tea pots Jibber Jabber Joo On the Nong Ning Nang All the Mice go Clang! And you just cant catch em when they do! So its Ning Nang Nong! Cows go Bong! Nong Nang Ning! Trees go Ping! Nong Ning Nang! The mice go Clang! What a noisy place to belong,Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!

I was lost And sang my broken-down songs in the hell of the hour. Then in my heart moved an oar, And I was found by a breeze from a door in the sea of forms And was rowed to the cherry trees on the shore.

Somewhere in time's own space There must be some sweet pastured place Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow Some paradise where horses go, For by the love that guides my pen I know great horses live again.

Es gibt nichts Frühlingshafteres als rostbraunschwarze Bahnhofsanlagen vor knospenden Bäumen, beschienen von praller Sonne. Die Menschen sind noch hellgesichtig, weißhalsig und bleicharmig und gleißen im Licht.

Über den schon leuchtend grünen Wiesenhügeln stand die volle Nachmittagssonne. Die Bäume schlugen so kräftig aus, daß man geradezu ausweichen mußte.

It is true that the trees are for human use. But these are aesthetic uses as well as commercial uses-uses for the spiritual wealth of all, as well as the material wealth of some.

It takes at least three trees to make a row, and it needs at least three facts to make a truth.

Plant the trees just for beauty, If flowers bloom or fruits ripen, Enjoy it as a gift and appreciate nature as a universal giver.

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears – the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?

The man named Caravaggio pushes open all the windows in the room so he can hear the noises of the night. He undresses, rubs his palms gently over his neck and for a while lies down on the unmade bed. The noise of the trees, the breaking of moon into silver fish bouncing off the leaves of asters outside. The moon is on him like skin, a sheaf of water.

The noise of the trees, the breaking of moon into silver fish bouncing off the leaves of asters outside.

Some mycelium will actually insinuate itself into the grain of trees, taking up residence and forming a symbiotic relationship with the tree. Stamets believes the mycelium functions as a kind of immune system for its arboreal host, secreting antibacterial, antiviral, and insecticidal compounds that protect the trees from diseases and pests, in exchange for nourishment and habitat.

If I had one golf course, from a design standpoint, one that I really love, it would probably be Pinehurst. There's a totally tree-lined golf course where trees are not a part of the strategy.

I love all trees, but I am in love with pines.

Seeing family is what brings me peace. If I'm not traveling home on my day off, I love going to Central Park to be around trees and throw a Frisbee with my boyfriend.

Driving through much of the southern part of the U.S. reminds me of where I grew up in Canada. The trees, homes, sense of community... I love the South.