Quotes About Leaves

Oh sure, I really miss the changing seasons, because in Los Angeles you don't really get that - and I feel like New Yorkers - and, really, all East Coasters - they really earn their good seasons. They earn when the weather's hot; they earn when the leaves start to change.

Summer shows us Matter changing into life, sap rising from the earth through a million tubes, the alchemic power of light entering the solid oak; and see! it bursts forth in countless leaves.

I cannot leave it; I must stay under the old tree in the midst of the long grass, the luxury of the leaves, and the song in the very air. I seem as if I could feel all the glowing life the sunshine gives and the south wind calls to being.

bristly oxtongue, a weed whose scabby leaves looked as if they were afflicted by industrial acne.

Khat was a shrub native to East Africa and the Arabian Peninsula, where people chewed the leaves as a stimulant. Poor man's speed. Stone's

Water evaporates from the leaves—Mammy, did you know?—the way it does from laundry hanging from a line. And that drives the flow of water up the tree. From the ground and through the roots, then all the way up the tree trunk, through the branches and into the leaves. It's called transpiration.

That proves you are unusual," returned the Scarecrow. "and I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.

That proves you are unusual, returned the Scarecrow. and I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed. Spoken

That proves you are unusual, returned the Scarecrow. and I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.

I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.

But you can't plead with autumn. No. The midnight wind stalked through the woods, hooted to frighten you, swept everything away for the approaching winter, whirled the leaves. ("The North")

Rüzgarla yerinden kopan bir yaprak sükunetle aÅŸa?? düÅŸer ama düÅŸerken döner, k?vr?l?r ve tan?d??? her dalla, her filizle, gövdeyle göz göze gelir... Yanlar?ndan geçtiÄŸim her kafaya, duvarlar?n saydam buzuna, bulutlara uzanan Ak?mtoplar Kulesi'yle iÅŸte öyle göz göze geldim.

but now, along this high, rocky road, it was the leaves of cherry trees that predominated. From the bridge on, these lay like fallen red flowers. Some wet leaves, already decaying, had faded to a pink that was the color of the dawn. Why should decay take the color of the dawn?

I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, because its leaves are a little yellow, its tone mellower, its colours richer, and it is tinged a little with sorrow and a premonition of death. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor of the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and is content.

when he walks, he sounds like a tree still full of dead leaves holding on.

You can't plead with autumn. No. The midnight wind stalked through the woods, hooted to frighten you, swept everything away for the approaching winter, whirled the leaves.

The yellow moon dreamily tipping buttons of light down among the leaves. Marimba, marimba - from beyond the black street. Somebody dancing, somebody getting the hell outta here. Shadows of cats weave round the treetrunks, the exposed knotty roots. ("Scenes from the Life of the Peppertrees")

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

the trees were putting on their September garments, brown and red and yellow

Autumn is the most beautiful time of the year in Ann Arbor because hundreds of different types of trees are filled with crisp orange and yellow leaves.

The wind I hear it sighing, with autumn's saddest sound; withered leaves all thick are lying, as spring-flowers on the ground. This dark night has won me to wander far away; old feelings gather fast upon me.

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.

TO my quick ear the leaves conferred; The bushes they were bells; I could not find a privacy From Nature's sentinels. In cave if I presumed to hide, The walls began to tell; Creation seemed a mighty crack To make me visible.

Come le donne le foglie si scambiano confidenze acute. A volte sono cenni, a volte illazioni portentose.