#trees

I could never be a country person, sitting around trees trying to write a song. I would rather be in the middle of society, whether it's growing or crumbling. ↗

— Ric Ocasek

#could #country #crumbling #growing #i

What the eyes perceive in herbs or stones or trees is not yet a remedy; the eyes see only the dross. ↗

— Paracelsus

#eyes #herbs #only #perceive #remedy

I knew, of course, that trees and plants had roots, stems, bark, branches and foliage that reached up toward the light. But I was coming to realize that the real magician was light itself. ↗

— Edward Steichen

#bark #branches #coming #course #foliage

Being a woman has only bothered me in climbing trees. ↗

— Frances Perkins

#bothered #climbing #me #only #trees

You will find something more in woods than in books. Trees and stones will teach you that which you can never learn from masters. ↗

— Saint Bernard

#find #learn #masters #more #never

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#books #brooks #everything #exempt #finds

Trees are your best antiques. ↗

— Alexander Smith

#best #trees #your

The trees around and overhead were so thick that it was always dry inside and on Sunday morning I lay there with Jonas, listening to his stories. All cat stories start with the statement: "My mother, who was the first cat, told me this," and I lay with my head close to Jonas and listened. There was no change coming, I thought here, only spring; I was wrong to be so frightened. The days would get warmer, and Uncle Julian would sit in the sun, and Constance would laugh when she worked in the garden, and it would always be the same. Jonas went on and on ("And then we sang! And then we sang!") and the leaves moved overhead and it would always be the same. ↗

— Shirley Jackson

#hiding #security #trees #change

Fancy cutting down all those beautiful trees...to make pulp for those bloody newspapers, and calling it civilisation. - Winston Churchill, remarking to his son during a visit to Canada in 1929 ↗

— John Vaillant

#beauty

It was Sunday, and Mumma had gone next door with Lena and the little ones. Under the pepper tree in the yard Pa was sorting, counting, the empty bottles he would sell back: the bottles going clink clink as Pa stuck them in the sack. The fowls were fluffing in the dust and sun: that crook-neck white pullet Mumma said she would hit on the head if only she had the courage to; but she hadn't. ↗

— Patrick White

#children #fathers #fowls #mothers #recycling