Quotes About Mountain

The mountain was dark blue and all around it the sky was gushing and glistening with light.

He never got up high enough to see. That's why I don't advise your trying this side. He tried this side. I've always meant to go And look myself, but you know how it is: It doesn't seem so much to climb a mountain You've worked around the foot of all your life.

The mountain pushed us off her knees. And now her lap is full of trees.

On a high mountain I stood, And cried the name of Ali, Lion of God. O Ali, Lion of God, King of Men, Bring joy to our sorrowful hearts.

Every moment an epiphany arrives, and cleaves the mountain asunder.

He felt himself dissolving down into the great mass of the mountain, tumbling slowly down through the rock. The mountain mumbled in his ear, I am. With a puff of its cheeks it blew him aloft, threw his atoms out into the sky. They tumbled off on the wind and dispersed to every point of the compass . . .until his body and California were contiguous, united, one. Only his vision remained separate.

It is a pilgrim's spiral path leads to this mountain's brow...It can never become familiar; you are lost the moment you set foot there. You know no path, but wander, thrilled, over the bare and pathless rock, as if it were solidified air and cloud...It is as if you trod with awe the face of a god turned up, unwittingly but helplessly, yielding to the laws of gravity. -Henry David Thoreau

Vendt mot syd, var til høyre en langbratt mektig ås. Bakom denne blå fjell. Til venstre en naken skrent; mange vannfosser nedover. Skogen var i løvspretten; den sendte god lukt med vinden til alle sider, og minte en om liv i en løvsal.

En hytte – den stod, som i tanker – var muret til fjeldsidens væg; den stod der, hvor rovdyret vanker tog stød af en ældgammel hæg. Naar stormen tog fart op til riften, var stenhyttens ejer ej glad; da tog han die hellihge schriften – og knælte saa ned og tilbad

Come l'ardita e cupa prora di una nave, l'Aiguille Noire fende i flutti dell'aria portati dalla tempesta. Ciuffi di nubi salgono verticali sopra la cresta, come bandiere. Noi invece siamo qui, schiacciati contro la parete. Le nebbie fluttuano sopra di noi, sprazzi di luce, là dove comincia la neve.

Flathead on the mountain. Taking them one at a time, she had the can of brains that belonged to each one opened and the contents spread on the flat head, after which, by means of her arts of sorcery

Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

The heights charm us, but the steps do not; with the mountain in our view we love to walk the plains.

The sword of justice need flash but once in the darkness. The light that shone from its blade would tell the world that the dawn was not far off. But men knew that a single glint from a Japanese sword was like the pale blue of daybreak along a mountain ridge.

What I wanted was to die among strangers, untroubled, beneath a cloudless sky. And yet my desire differed from the sentiments of that ancient Greek who wanted to die under the brilliant sun. What I wanted was some natural, spontaneous suicide. I wanted a death like that of a fox, not yet well versed in cunning, that walks carelessly along a mountain path and is shot by a hunter because of its own stupidity…

A curiosity . . . no, a need for a different kind of communion. One with people not of the mountain, but rather the outsiders of the Ridge. She couldn't explain the call of Angel Ridge. Women before her, like her mother, had experienced the same longing, had tried to assimilate with the people below the mountain and had been cruelly rejected, returning to the mountain to live a singular existence.

Sometimes the mountain is hidden from me in veils of cloud, sometimes I am hidden from the mountain in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue, when I forget or refuse to go down to the shore or a few yards up the road, on a clear day, to reconfirm that witnessing presence.

Not so bizarre, and a method for which I have respect, is freezing to death on a mountain. It takes a certain sort of person to want to die this way: having a love of and knowledge of mountains, determination, and the enduring courage to carry it off.

Weren't expecting this, were you, Mr. Detective? Probably thought, once a mountain fell on her, you'd seen the last of our sister, eh?" "To be honest," Skulduggery said, "yes.

The mountain was a kingdom of isolation, and it looked like she was the queen. She'd keep going in that direction until she found the trolls or her legs gave out. She wasn't even tired. And the cold never bothered her, anyway.

Remind me again why we listened to a talking snowman? We're in deep snow, the wind is howling, we have no shelter, and I'm sledding up a mountain based on a hunch.

But after a sojourn in the Adirondacks restored his health, he became persuaded of the curative powers of the mountain air and devoted himself to the study of respiratory problems. He

but he knew by the way the man was looking at him his words had been wasted. "I'm going up the mountain," Tanner said.

And should Armageddon come, should a foreign enemy someday shower the United States with nuclear warheads, laying waste to the whole continent, entombed within Cheyenne Mountain, along with the high-tech marvels, the pale blue jumpsuits, comic books, and Bibles, future archeologists may find other clues to the nature of our civilization—Big King wrappers, hardened crusts of Cheesy Bread, Barbeque Wing bones, and the red, white, and blue of a Domino's pizza box.