Quotes About Woods

was both afraid of them and glad of their human presence. Dangerous as they could be to me, somehow, they did not seem as threatening as the dark shadowy woods with its strange sounds, its unknowns.

I only care for the subjective life; I am very German, you see: The woods interest me, and the world does not.

I need not say that in this place I had never ceased to passionately regret my dear old master in the noble pine woods of the Peak. Indeed, I had sometimes lamented for him aloud in a grief that brought on me angry words and even angry strokes; so little sympathy have men or women ever with our woes, although for theirs we feel so keenly and fret ourselves so ceaselessly. Twenty times at least had I endeavored to run away, with the full intent of trying to find my road back alone

woods in the predawn darkness, the silence only broken by the sloshing of his flask.

I'm going to die, she thought. Alone, in this village, under an oak. No one will ever find me. Who in my family will come to look for me? I'm going to die here alone in the woods and turn to moss, and on Fifth Soviet they will open up another bottle of vodka and chase me down with pickles, and say, this is for our Tania.

Rough wind, that moanest loudGrief too sad for songWild wind, when sullen cloudKnells all the night longSad storm, whose tears are vain,Bare woods, whose branches strain,Deep caves and dreary main, - Wail, for the world's wrong

He wanders, like a day-appearing dream, Through the dim wildernesses of the mind; Through desert woods and tracts, which seem Like ocean, homeless, boundless, unconfined.

And, day and night, aloof, from the high towers and terraces, the Earth and Ocean seem to sleep in one another's arms, and dream of waves, flowers, clouds, woods, rocks, and all that we read in their smiles, and call reality.

These idiot Satanists have been dancing through the woods at midnight for centuries, and they've never succeeded in summoning up the dead before.

They could hear again the gathering whispers, the swooshes and squeals, the cracks, almost as if the fire were questioning its own intentions and the woods were answering: 'We have been waiting for you our whole lives.