Quotes About Wood

Wood is universally beautiful to man. It is the most humanly intimate of all materials.

The confirmed man of trout should resolve to get along with wood ticks. Any other procedure would fail because the wood tick is determined to get along with trout fishermen.

There's a bed, a little fold-out table, and cabinets made of actual wood. These in combination with the photographs of family and friends give it a cozy, domestic flavor which is, however, completely ruined by the framed picture of Adolf Hitler on the wall. Waterhouse finds this to be shockingly poor taste until he remembers it's a German boat.

THE MONASTERY GATE was as weak as Finn surmised, the timbers splintering after three strong kicks from Finn's boot. Using his spear as a wedge, he ripped and tore the rotted wood away until there was a large enough hole to pass through. After ducking and looking, he went first, leaping nimbly through the gap. Cnán followed, more readily and eagerly than she had anticipated, and Yasper came close on her heels.

fixed atop a sturdy handle of polished hickory.

Half way down, he encountered Saphira, who had jammed her head and neck as far up the stair as she could, gouging the wood in her frenzy. Little one. She flicked out her tongue and caught him on the hand with its rough tip. He smiled. Then she arched her neck and tried to pull back, but to no avail. What's wrong? I'm stuck. You're... He could not help it;he laughed even though it hurt. The situation was too absurd.

Do elves use horn bows as well? You're so strong, a wood bow would shatter if it was made heavy enough for you." "We sing our bows from trees that do not grow." And then she walked away.

Maybe that is the one real division between men: wood men and desert men.

Listen to me, Jez. There's no reason for you to die-" Wood...poison." No it isn't! Not to humans. And you're half human. You're vampire enough to survie something that would kill a human, but you're human enough not to be poisoned by wood.

And this totally normal conversation unspools from there, covering the basics: family, siblings, school, favorite composers, favorite movies, favorite wood (for carving puppets), the prehistory of the sandwich, and whether the ancient Romans got their togas caught in the spokes of their unicycles

Simultaneously, an Auburn banker named Charles P. Wood prepared a narrative of Tubman's war service, with an appendix of available documentation. Copies are still on file at the National Archives.

promenade concert n. BRITISH a concert of classical music at which a part of the audience stands in an area without seating, for which tickets are sold at a reduced price. The most famous series of such concerts is the annual BBC Promenade Concerts (known as the Proms), instituted by Sir Henry Wood in 1895.

Towns can be cruel and vicious -- and sorry. In the wood, in the clearing, in the sun, we will one day find and crown her and keep her: our own witch, the witch of Wiscasset, the Blueberry Queen of Maine.

I USED TO LOVE this season. The wood stacked by the door, the tang of its sap still speaking of forest. The hay made, all golden in the low afternoon light. The rumble of the apples tumbling into the cellar bins. Smells and sights and sounds that said this year it would be all right: there'd be food and warmth for the babies by the time the snows came.

A lumberjack's best friend is a good lager.

I had never before thought of how awful the relationship must be between the musician and his instrument. He has to fill it, this instrument, with the breath of life, his own. He has to make it do what he wants it to do. And a piano is just a piano. It's made out of so much wood and wires and little hammers and big ones, and ivory. While there's only so much you can do with it, the only way to find this out is to try; to try and make it do everything.

Verily it is a foolish thought that they both have devised, for the ground is given unto the wood, and the sea also had its place to bear its floods.

The savage bows down to idols of wood and stone, the civilized man to idols of flesh and blood

I come to the point of using steel, and simply cannot. It's like the marriage proposal of a perfectly eligible man who just isn't loveable. It is wood I love.

Sometimes my body is a guitar, a hole waiting in wood, wires trembling to sleep. To identify what you are, to be loved by what you identify, I thought This is how the blood sings into the self. I thought what was hollow in me would be shaped into music. — Terrance Hayes, from "Arbor for Butch," The American Poetry Review . Volume 38, No. 06 November/December

Over all, rocks, wood, and water, brooded the spirit of repose, and the silent energy of nature stirred the soul to its inmost depths.

Turkish opium-eaters, it seems, are absurd enough to sit, like so many equestrian statues, on logs of wood as stupid as themselves.

If loneliness were a grape the wine would be vintage If it were a wood the furniture would be mahogany But since it is life it is Cotton Candy on a rainy day The sweet soft essence of possibility Never quite maturing from Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day

everything wooden swells and shrinks, and the nails in everything wooden, the floors and baseboards and window casings, the nails inch out and rust. Everywhere there are rusted nails to step on or snag your elbow on, and there's only one bathroom for the seven