Quotes About Wilderness

The forest, the virgin forest, the life of a woodcutter—that has always been my ideal.

Nature, not yet polluted by human beings, hence his early rising.

It's one thing to describe someone as a voice crying in the wilderness, but that doesn't quite capture Laurence Vance and his work. Vance is a voice crying in a soundproof sarcophagus on the moon.

I am savage enough to prefer the woods, the wilds, and the independence of Monticello, to all the brilliant pleasures of this gay capital [Paris].

Far from offering structures to any history of the past, this kind of desert emptiness and exile is akin to the wilderness traditions of the monastery and the desert fathers.

This, then, is our desert: to live facing despair, but not to consent. To trample it down under hope in the Cross. To wage war against despair unceasingly. That war is our wilderness.

they should learn to love Him in the wilderness and that they should always look back upon the time in the desert as the idyllic time of their life with Him alone.

First, the desert is the country of madness. Second, it is the refuge of the devil, thrown out into the "wilderness of upper Egypt" to "wander

Concupierunt concupiscentiam in deserto. . . . Numquid poterit parare mensam populo suo?

The mind I love must have wild places.

The mind I love most must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind.

How can we live as if we were in the wilderness, with that same respect and care for what is beautiful and beyond us?

There was a time—until very recently in the scheme of things—when there were no wild animals, because every animal was wild; and humans were few. Animals, and animal presence over us and around us. Over every horizon, animals. Their skins clothing our skins, their fats in our lamps, their bladders to carry water, meat when we could get it.

Wild is a word like 'soul'. Such a thing may not exist, but we want it, and we know what we mean when we talk about it.

Like boulders rolled away from doors, like meteors, things rumbling in my brain ask me to go out like Moses into some wilderness.

Eagles don't catch flies.

Some cowboys got too much tumbleweed in their blood to settle down.

High high in the hills , high in a pine tree bed. She's tracing the wind with that old hand, counting the clouds with that old chant, Three geese in a flock one flew east one flew west one flew over the cuckoo's nest

trails and across rushing

A drove of mules the size of ants appeared in silhouette on a ridgetop path, moving at a star's pace. The mules were driven by human intelligence and commercial interests, expertise in breeding and bloodlines. Everything was human; the farthest wilderness was steeped with sociability.

The old poets knew all along: the wilderness has an awful tongue, which teaches doubt.

Hypothermia was curling back its lips and exposing its sharp teeth.

THE JOE PICKETT NOVELS Long Range Wolf Pack The Disappeared Vicious Circle Off the Grid Endangered Stone Cold Breaking Point Force of Nature Cold Wind Nowhere to Run Below Zero Blood Trail Free Fire In Plain Sight Out of Range Trophy Hunt Winterkill Savage Run Open Season THE STAND-ALONE NOVELS The Bitterroots Paradise Valley Badlands The Highway Back of Beyond Three Weeks to Say Goodbye

After nightfall the face of the country seems to alter marvelously, and the clear moonlight only intensifies the change. The river gleams like running quicksilver, and the moonbeams play over the grassy stretches of the plateaus.… The Bad Lands seem to be stranger and wilder than ever.…—THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Hunting Trips of a Ranchman