Quotes About Woods

Use what talents you possess the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.

Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are-- Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.

I am as free as nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran.

Family dysfunction rolls down from generation to generation, like a fire in the woods, taking down everything in its path until one person in one generation has the courage to turn and face the flames. That person brings peace to their ancestors and spares the children that follow.

She walked the spiral corridor, running her hand along the painted horizon - sea, beach, dunes, woods, moors - the journey of her people from over the sea. The story of the Anglisc, woven with Woden back to the dawn of their songs. Ships. Fire. Bright swords. Kin and kine. Woods and wold. Hearth and home. Where was Christ in this? Christ didn't fight. Christ didn't farm.

Come away! O, human child! To the woods and waters wild, With a fairy hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. —W. B. YEATS

The question rolled around in Vanessa's mind as she drove down Main Street. The sleepy town of Hyattown had changed very little in twelve years. It was still tucked in the foothills of Maryland's Blue Ridge Mountains, surrounded by rolling farmland and thick woods. Apple orchards and dairy cows encroached as close as the town limits, and here, inside those limits, there were no stoplights, no office buildings, no hum of traffic.

the pit where flames crackled, sending sparks shooting high. Odd shapes had been carved in the trunks of the circling trees. The young girl began wondering where her father was. She had hidden in his car, giggling to herself at the trick she was playing on him. When she had followed him through the woods, she hadn't been afraid of the dark. She'd never been afraid. She had hidden, waiting for the right time to jump out and into his arms. But he had put on a long

our cabin in the woods in Clare.

But first of all he is a woodsman, and you aren't a woodsman unless you have such a feeling for topography that you can look at the earth and see what it would look like without any woods or covering on it. It's something like the gift all men wish for when they or young-- or old-- of being able to look through a woman's clothes and see her body, possibly even a little of her character.

Through atoms of grey-blue air the sun struck at English fields and lit up marshes and pools, a white gull on a stake, the slow sail of shadows over blunt-headed woods and young corn and flowing hayfields. It beat on the orchard wall, and every pit and grain of the brick was silver pointed, purple, fiery as if soft to touch, as if touched it must melt into hot-baked grains of dust.

I had always thought that wringing one's hands was a fictional gesture — the obscure outcome, perhaps, of some medieval ritual; but as I took to the woods, for a spell of despair and desperate meditation, this was the gesture ("look, Lord, at these chains!") that would have come nearest to the mute expression of my mood.

Poesy is a beauteous damsel, chaste, honourable, discreet, witty, retired, and who keeps herself within the limits of propriety. She is a friend of solitude; fountains entertain her, meadows console her, woods free her from ennui, flowers delight her; in short, she gives pleasure and instruction to all with whom she communicates.

The girls are all giggling, then one girl suddenly remembersthe wild goat. Up there, on the hilltop, in the woodsand rocky ravines, the peasants saw him butting his headagainst the trees, looking for the nannies. He's gone wild,and the reason why is this: if you don't make an animal work,if you keep him only for stud, he likes to hurt, he kills.

The clear cold sunshine glances into the brittle woods, and approvingly beholds the sharp wind scattering the leaves and drying the moss. It glides over the park after the moving shadows of the clouds, and chases them, and never catches them, all day. It looks in the windows, and touches the ancestral portraits with bars and patches of brightness, never contemplated by the painters.

Ask her what she craved, and she'd get a little frantic about things like books, the woods, music. Plants and the seasons. Also freedom. Not being bought and sold by some idiot employer, not having the moments of her days valued in fractions of a dollar by somebody other than herself.

Oh, come to the woods, the merry green woods, While gaily the autumn leaves fall. Just look overhead, 'mid leaves brown and red, The squirrels all chatter and call, "October is here, the Queen of the Year, Merry, merry, October!" Oh, out in the woods, the merry green woods, The fairies their revels will keep; Then, when it is dark, comes the Frost Spirit—hark! He is singing the flowers to sleep! "October is here, the Queen of the Year, Merry, merry October!"

Philippa knew that Eliza was unusual: Animals worshipped her. She attracted them even though she dressed like a heretic. Even that dog of the Cohens had followed her out of the woods. The girl must give off some smell or vibration that attracted the beasts to her. But that she should then turn around and follow them , taking care of distemper or peering into hooves and mouths and reaching into unthinkable places for difficult births?

There once was an infant lost in the woods, crying its heart out, wondering why no one answered, drawing down the wolves

An unbearable smug look came over his usually impassive face.Uh-huh. You just keep telling youself that. You looove me. I took a swing at him, but he jumped back nimbly, and all I did was jar my left arm, making it hurt. He laughed at me, then pointed at the woods ouside the window.Pick a tree. I'll go carve our initials in it.

But Mrs. Joan Murphy, the subject, was not making Conklin's job any easier. She was understandably distraught, traumatized, and possibly a bit squirrelly. As a result, she'd taken the interview straight off road, through the deep woods, and directly over a cliff.

The father of Egyptology was Father Athanasius Kircher.

But what she is experiencing here, in the woods, is more than memory. It is feeling, sensation. She feels Parvati in the tranquility of the blue sky. She feels her in the dancing treetops. In each of the submerged stones. In

Oh, I'm with the government all right," said Serge. "But when I say 'with,' I mean in the context of I'm in favor of it because otherwise there are no streets or postage stamps, and everyone wanders the woods carrying their own mail and looking at the sun to know when to eat until there's an eclipse and everyone's blind. That's why you should vote.