Quotes About Landscape

As a Midlander and a big walker, I'd always loved ridge and furrow fields, the plough-marked land as it was when it was enclosed. It is the landscape giving you a story of lives that ended with the arrival of sheep.

We lived in this area that was basically two circular roads next to each other. There were forests and pastures and stuff. I remember walking around the forest quite a bit.

Some golfers, we are told, enjoy the landscape; but properly, the landscape shrivels and compresses into the grim, surrealistically vivid patch of grass directly under the golfer's eyes as he morosely walks toward where he thinks his ball might be.

Landscape to me is a planar thing, just a view. Environment is everything down to the ecosystem. Big difference.

A boundary is really something artificial we made up. The ecosystem and landscape continue.

You always need a textural landscape. I think that's what fashion is about, and I think when you come to a brand and you're trying to re-instill its history, the history only comes through being personal.

It's changed the landscape of my career without a doubt. 'Deadwood' started to do that, but then 'Breaking Bad' really shifted everything for me.

I always think of buildings in their settings, but so do other architects.

And in fact I don't believe there is such a thing as a definitive picture of something. The land is a living, breathing thing and light changes its character every second of every day. That's why I love it so much.

Objects in a park suggest static repose rather than any ongoing dialectic. Parks are finished landscapes for finished art .

No doubt these rocky islands have suggested the idea worked out in gardens, and they have been well imitated.

The restoration comes not only from the landscape and air, though they play their significant part, but from the people. I feel a strong need to be in New Hampshire for as much of the summer as I can manage it.

I'd spent summers growing up in Mississippi, so I had an idea of what the South is like.

There is just something about being out in open country, about seeing the sun rise over a pond, that's really beautiful.

Arizona is gorgeous. The sunshine in Arizona is gorgeous red.

Whom will you cry to, heart? More and more lonely, your path struggles on through incomprehensible mankind. All the more futile perhaps for keeping to its direction, keeping on toward the future, toward what has been lost. Once. You lamented? What was it? A fallen berry of jubilation, unripe. But now the whole tree of my jubilation is breaking, in the storm it is breaking, my slow tree of joy. Loveliest in my invisible landscape, you that made me more known to the invisible angels.

The charming landscape which I saw this morning, is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none of them owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet. This is the best part of these men's farms, yet to this their warranty-deeds give no title.

Turn the eye upside down, by looking at the landscape through your legs, and how agreeable is the picture, though you have seen it any time these twenty years!

When I behold a rich landscape, it is less to my purpose to recite correctly the order and superposition of the strata, than to know why all thought of multitude is lost in a tranquil sense of unity.

When we speak of nature in this manner, we have a distinct but most poetical sense in the mind. We mean the integrity of impression made by manifold natural objects. It is this which distinguishes the stick of timber of the wood-cutter, from the tree of the poet. The charming landscape which I saw this morning, is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none of them owns the landscape.

I sometimes think drivers don't know what grass is, or flowers, because they never see them slowly, she said. If you showed a driver a green blur, Oh yes! he'd say, that's grass! A pink blur! That's a rose garden! White blurs are houses. Brown blurs are cows.

There was a smell like a cut potato from all the land, raw and cold and white from having the moon on it most of the night.

He surveyed the lake of grass below, all the dandelions gone, a touch of rust in the trees, and the smell of Egypt blowing from the far east.

The achievement of the hero is one that he is ready for, and it's really a manifestation of his character. And it's amusing, the way in which the landscape and the conditions of the environment match the readiness of the hero. The adventure that he's ready for is the one that he gets.