Quotes About Leaves

Ever felt an angel's breath in the gentle breeze? A teardrop in the falling rain? Hear a whisper amongst the rustle of leaves? Or been kissed by a lone snowflake? Nature is an angel's favorite hiding place.

We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed The white of their leaves, the amber grain Shrunk in the wind -- and the lightning now Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain.

So many words get lost. They leave the mouthand lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days you can hear their chorus rushing past.

So many words get lost. They leave the mouth and lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days you can hear their chorus rushing past: IwasabeautifulgirlPleasedon'tgoItoobelievemybodyismadeofglassI'veneverlovedanyoneIthinkofmyselfasfunnyForgiveme….

Love is in short supply Like leaves on a winter vine Whether it's right or whether it's wrong I'll pay the price for mine

You're seriously talking about a ghost. This building - or parts of it - has been here for two and a half centuries. It would strike me odder if there wasn't a ghost. Not everything, everyone, leaves.

Change your opinions, keep to your principles; Change your leaves, keep intact your roots.

When he heard autumn leaves skuttling in the wind, he remembered that chuckle.

Latet arbore opaca aureus et foliis et lento vimine ramus

Up here my eyes are green leaves, unseeing.

Outside the trees dragged their leaves like nets through the depths of the air; the sound of water was in the room and through the waves came the voices of birds singing.

The streets seemed to chafe the very air...and lift its leaves hotly, brilliantly, on waves of that divine vitality which Clarissa loved.

The wind blew, from what quarter I know not, but it lifted the half-grown leaves so that there was a flash of silver-grey in the air. It was the time between the lights when colors undergo their intensification and purples and golds burn in windowpanes like the beat of an excitable heart; when for some reason the beauty of the world revealed and yet soon to perish ... has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.

It sharpened, it refined them, the yellow-blue evening light; and on the leaves in the square shone lurid, livid - they looked as if dipped in sea water - the foliage of a submerged city.

Jacob! Jacob! cried Bonamy, standing by the window. The leaves sank down again. Such confusion everywhere! exclaimed Betty Flanders, bursting open the bedroom door. Bonamy turned away from the window. What am I to do with these, Mr. Bonamy? She held out a pair of Jacob's old shoes.

But they beckoned; leaves were alive; trees were alive. And the leaves being connected by millions of fibres with his own body, there on the seat, fanned it up and down; when the branch stretched he , too, made that statement.

Feia vent, i de tant en tant les fulles deixaven a la vista una estrella, i semblava que les estrelles mateixes s'estremissin i projectessin la seva llum per mirar d'esquitllar-se per entre les vores de les fulles.

A cluster of stars palely glowed above us, between the silhouettes of long thin leaves; that vibrant sky seemed as naked as she was under her light frock. I saw her face in the sky, strangely distinct, as if it emitted a faint radiance of its own.

She was only the faint violet whiff and dead leaf echo of the nymphet I had rolled myself upon with such cries in the past; an echo on the brink of a russet ravine, with a far wood under a white sky, and brown leaves choking the brook, and one last cricket in the crisp weeds.

Them cool green leaves Is waitin' to shelter me O, little tree!

The beautiful feet of the summer, So late by the woodland and rill, With slow, lingering movement are going Down the brown, southern slopes of the hills; Her dreamy-eyed sister, the autumn, Looks down at the summer-clad trees, And, 'neath her cool breathing, a garment Of brown is put on by the leaves.

how wide his shoulders were, like a swimmer's, his skin the color of tea, of fall leaves toasted by the sun.

Aubade" And yet— It is not the radiance of the dawn which stings my weary eyes, but the memory of yester-eve's touch as I must leave you now trembling, like the leaves with Light Outlandos D'Amour (2008)

And in my night confusion it is as if I can hear the leaves being gnawed, the forest being eaten alive, shred by shred. I cannot bear it. They are not mild, these moths. Their appetites are blindingly voracious, obsessive. An acquaintance has told me that the Navahos refer to someone with an emotional illness as "moth crazy.