Quotes About Wilderness

When you're in the wild, there's nothing to hide behind. No bars or credit cards or movie theatres or cell phones or credentials or security. You're just alone with yourself. You look around and lose yourself in the mountains, rivers, forests or tundra, but you can see nothing except for the chaos in your own mind. It is fucking terrifying and peaceful at the same time.

The forest is blanketed by the greenest ferns and moss and bonsai-like trees, a wild majesty that beckons hobbits and pixies and elves and dreamers.

it would be a kind boon in an overruling Providence to sweep from the earth the soil, along with the people. Better to be a wilderness of waste, than a lasting monument of lost liberty.

It's just me and James walking and walking except he's on my back and his eyes are looking past the people who are looking past us for the coyote of our soul and the wolverine of our heart and the crazy crazy man that touches every Indian who spends too much time alone.

I would close my eyes and dream of something strong, dream of horses exploding, rising into the air, their hearts beating survive, survive, survive.

Yes, I was bewildered. When was the last time a white American male was truly bewildered or would admit to such a thing? We had taken the world from covered wagons to space shuttles in seventy-five years. After such accomplishment, how could we ever get lost in the wilderness again? How could we not invent a device to guide our souls through the darkness?

Law of the jungle. The betrayee gets to eat the betrayer. --Dante Pontis

You look like you were chewed up by a wolf and shit down the wrong side of a mountain. (Kasen)

There are natures that go to the streams of life in great cities as the hart goes to the water brooks.

Most Europeans have no idea how wild life can be in north America.

I've had a great time in South America and South Africa. Indeed it now seems that on this pair of wild hot continents I've enjoyed the most fruitful year of my life.

There is something else I am after, out here in the wild. I am searching for an even more elusive prey . . . something that can only be found through the help of wilderness. I am looking for my heart.

Jammer - ik begon net weer aan mijn oude vertrouwde baard te wennen.' 'Die heerlijke wildernis,' flapte Will eruit.

It is our duty to help ane anither in this howling wilderness.

you can be talented as a wolf is breathtakingly fierce...silver and gray, like smoke in the trees - but what do you do with terrible beauty?...

William Frederick 'Buffalo Bill' Cody, hunter, Indian-fighter and showman, joined the Pony Express – the West's legendary mail service – at the age of fourteen, in response to an ad which ran: 'WANTED young skinny wiry fellows not over eighteen. Must be expert riders willing to risk death daily. Orphans preferred. Wages $25 a week.

have here rated the improved land very low, in making its product but as ten to one, when it is much nearer an hundred to one : for I ask, whether in the wild woods and uncultivated waste of America, left to nature, without any improvement, tillage, or husbandry, a thousand acres yield the needy and wretched inhabitants as many conveniencies of life as ten acres equally fertile land do in Devonshire, where they are well cultivated?

I'm a person of the mountains and the open paddocks and the big empty sky, that's me, and I knew if I spent too long away from all that I'd die; I don't know what of, I just knew I'd die.

He grabs ropes, furs, blankets, a hatchet, and carrots. Carrots? Okay, so he likes vegetables.

Angelo's description hadn't prepared Vincent for the reality of Kii. That serpentine shape emerging from camouflaging jungle triggered atavistic responses, an adrenaline spike for which his watch barely compensated. He took one unwilling step back anyway, shivering, and forced himself to pretend to be calm.

He clung to flying twigs and underbrush to steady his uncertain descent, his bruised hip aching when he slipped.

They came down together, the old wolf in his kilt and dinner jacket leaning on the young one in his cedar-smelling tuxedo.

This was his wood, his mountain.

Wolves don't live long, who walk heedlessly into a moonlit field. Even one that amounts to their backyard.