Quotes About Mountain

Up in the distance the whistle of the wind sang to her from the mountain. From Lucian's mountain. It beckoned and taunted and she wanted to run towards it. To be enveloped in its coat of fleece and to hear its safe sounds.

Well, I'm not sure what suspicious looks like. Sometimes when you come down the mountain and stand behind those trees, you look suspicious.

Corporation opened its doors in Mountain View, California. Four years later, Mosaic

Your namesake dwelt on this holy mountain three thousand years ago. He came here to listen for the voice of God." Elijah waited, knowing there would be more forthcoming. The wind rummaged uneasily in the grape arbors. "He heard it in a gentle breeze, not in rushing about the world looking for projects. Our vocation is a call to listening. To adoration of the One who dwells among us. That is why you came here. That is why you were born." Elijah

The Templars would later encounter Ismaili dualists in the form of the Assassins, who would descend from their Syrian mountain eyrie to commit acts of terror against all sides.

All mountain landscapes hold stories: the ones we read, the ones we dream, and the ones we create. -from the Editor's Note, The Alpinist (April 1, 2010)

A few words before we attack," Surplus said. "I know that I can trust you all to be terrifying..." "Yasss!" his mountain horse said. "Be quiet, Buttercup. However, please remember to only knock down things that are not difficult to repair – porches are fine; pottery is not.

Kangchenjunga is something more than unfriendly, it is imbued with a blind unreasoning hatred towards the mountaineer.

As ever, the challenge was not just to get high on the mountain, but to haul up hundreds of kilos of supplies and equipment and set up a ladder of camps to the summit.

Thousands and thousands of drowned souls in oblivion and enemies and friends. A mountain was formed, the top of which a person sits, on the mountain from the corpses of forgotten and erased people who made up the main content of life.

If you have time to chatter, Read books. If you have time to read, Walk into mountain, desert and ocean. If you have time to walk, Sing songs and dance. If you have time to dance, Sit quietly, you happy, lucky idiot.

As we used to say in the mountains, "Breathe. Breathe again. With every breath, you are alive." After all these years, this still the best advice I can give you: Savor your existence. Live every moment. Do not waste a breath.

The mountain was teaching me a hard lesson: camaraderie is a noble thing, but in the end death is an opponent each of us would face in solitude.

As we used to say in the mountains, "Breathe. Breathe Again. With every breath, you are alive." After all these years, this is still the best advice I can give you: Savor your existence. Live every moment. Do not waste a breath.

I was looking for...the mountain cult," he barks out at last. His throat is dry and his head aches. She laughs. "Yea, well. You found it. So that was a bloody stupid idea, wasn't it?

The round-backed cottages clung to the earth like long animals whose folded heads were always to the mountain. Lying thus to the slopes they were part of the rhythm of the land itself... There were little herds of these cottages at long intervals, and every now and then a cottage by itself like a wandered beast...

In the lowlands around Lake Superior weather fronts, with their attendant changes in pressure, gave her headaches. Not so the mountain storms. Cracking thunder and flashing lightning filled the air with ozone till it tingled in the lungs, rejuvenating body and spirit much the same as the air at the seaside or near waterfalls.

Before he had completed this thought, the peak of the mountain was flooded with thin rose colour, too austere to be theatrical, but so vivid that its beauty was painful. He felt that kind of impatience and disquietude that sudden beauty brings. He could not stand and watch the flood of warmth flow down the flanks of the mountain nor the intolerable transfiguration of the sky.

This River (sawco), as I am told by the Savages, cometh from a great mountain called the Cristall hill, being as they say 100 miles in the Country, yet it is to be seene at the sea side, and there is no ship ariuse in

Ninety feet over my head the canopy of ash and white basswood shivered the constant mountain breeze; it was never quiet, not even at night. I stood for a while and just listened.

I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink to a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply ALL my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy.

When the autumn wind Blows down from Tokiwa Mountain, My body fills, as if blushing, With the color and scent Of pine.

Vision and persistence will take you to the top of the leadership mountain, but only humility will keep you there.

Sleep is light in nomad camps. The body, exhausted by space, grows warm, stretches out straight, recalls the length of the trip. The paths of the mountain ridges run like shivers along the spine. The velvet meadows burden and tickle the eyelids. Bedsores of the ravines hollow out the sides. Sleep immures you, bricks you up. Last thought: have to ride around some ridge...