Woods Quotes

Quotes tagged as "woods" Showing 1-30 of 172
Mary Oliver
“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
Mary Oliver

Emily Carroll
“Oh, but you must travel through those woods again and again... said a shadow at the window... and you must be lucky to avoid the wolf every time...

But the wolf... the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once.”
Emily Carroll, Through the Woods

L.M. Montgomery
“The woods call to us with a hundred voices, but the sea has one only — a mighty voice that drowns our souls in its majestic music. The woods are human, but the sea is of the company of the archangels.”
L.M. Montgomery, Anne's House of Dreams

Bill Bryson
“Distance changes utterly when you take the world on foot. A mile becomes a long way, two miles literally considerable, ten miles whopping, fifty miles at the very limits of conception. The world, you realize, is enormous in a way that only you and a small community of fellow hikers know. Planetary scale is your little secret.

Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. When it is dark, you go to bed, and when it is light again you get up, and everything in between is just in between. It’s quite wonderful, really.

You have no engagements, commitments, obligations, or duties; no special ambitions and only the smallest, least complicated of wants; you exist in a tranquil tedium, serenely beyond the reach of exasperation, “far removed from the seats of strife,” as the early explorer and botanist William Bartram put it. All that is required of you is a willingness to trudge.

There is no point in hurrying because you are not actually going anywhere. However far or long you plod, you are always in the same place: in the woods. It’s where you were yesterday, where you will be tomorrow. The woods is one boundless singularity. Every bend in the path presents a prospect indistinguishable from every other, every glimpse into the trees the same tangled mass. For all you know, your route could describe a very large, pointless circle. In a way, it would hardly matter.

At times, you become almost certain that you slabbed this hillside three days ago, crossed this stream yesterday, clambered over this fallen tree at least twice today already. But most of the time you don’t think. No point. Instead, you exist in a kind of mobile Zen mode, your brain like a balloon tethered with string, accompanying but not actually part of the body below. Walking for hours and miles becomes as automatic, as unremarkable, as breathing. At the end of the day you don’t think, “Hey, I did sixteen miles today,” any more than you think, “Hey, I took eight-thousand breaths today.” It’s just what you do.”
Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail

Stephen Sondheim
“Though it's fearful,
Though it's deep, though it's dark
And though you may lose the path,
Though you may encounter wolves,
You can't just act,
You have to listen.
you can't just act,
You have to think.
Though it's dark,
There are always wolves,
There are always spells,
There are always beans,
Or a giant dwells there.
So into the woods you go again,
You have to every now and then.
Into the woods, no telling when,
Be ready for the journey.
Into the woods, but not too fast
or what you wish, you lose at last.
Into the woods, but mind the past.
Into the woods, but mind the future.
Into the woods, but not to stray,
Or tempt the wolf, or steal from the giant--

The way is dark,
The light is dim,
But now there's you, me, her, and him.
The chances look small,
The choices look grim,
But everything you learn there
Will help when you return there.

The light is getting dimmer..

I think I see a glimmer--

Into the woods--you have to grope,
But that's the way you learn to cope.
Into the woods to find there's hope
Of getting through the journey.
Into the woods, each time you go,
There's more to learn of what you know.
Into the woods, but not too slow--
Into the woods, it's nearing midnight--
Into the woods to mind the wolf,
To heed the witch, to honor the giant,
To mind, to heed, to find, to think, to teach, to join, to go to the Festival!
Into the woods,
Into the woods,
Into the woods,
Then out of the woods--
And happy ever after!”
Stephen Sondheim, Into the Woods

Andrea Cremer
“(Ren's) eyes were sad but resigned. “And where will you go?”
I couldn’t keep the fear out of my reply. “I don’t know.”
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered. “Come back with me. We’ll talk to Logan; there has to be an explanation. The Keepers need us; we’re the alphas. We’ll figure this out. They won’t hurt you. I won’t let them.”
Andrea Cremer, Nightshade

C.S. Lewis
“Any patch of sunlight in a wood will show you something about the sun which you could never get from reading books on astronomy. These pure and spontaneous pleasures are ‘patches of Godlight’ in the woods of our experience.”
C.S. Lewis

Henry David Thoreau
“When I consider that the nobler animal have been exterminated here - the cougar, the panther, lynx, wolverine, wolf, bear, moose, dear, the beaver, the turkey and so forth and so forth, I cannot but feel as if I lived in a tamed and, as it were, emasculated country... Is it not a maimed and imperfect nature I am conversing with? As if I were to study a tribe of Indians that had lost all it's warriors...I take infinite pains to know all the phenomena of the spring, for instance, thinking that I have here the entire poem, and then, to my chagrin, I hear that it is but an imperfect copy that I possess and have read, that my ancestors have torn out many of the first leaves and grandest passages, and mutilated it in many places. I should not like to think that some demigod had come before me and picked out some of the best of the stars. I wish to know an entire heaven and an entire earth.”
Henry David Thoreau, The Journal, 1837-1861

Wendell Berry
“We walked always in beauty, it seemed to me. We walked and looked about, or stood and looked. Sometimes, less often, we would sit down. We did not often speak. The place spoke for us and was a kind of speech. We spoke to each other in the things we saw.”
Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

Benjamin Rush
“It would seem from this fact, that man is naturally a wild animal, and that when taken from the woods, he is never happy in his natural state, 'till he returns to them again.”
Benjamin Rush, A Memorial Containing Travels Through Life or Sundry Incidents in the Life of Dr Benjamin Rush

Lord Dunsany
“And she would not hold back his limbs when his heart was gone to the woods, for it is ever the way of witches with any two things to care for the more mysterious of the two.”
Lord Dunsany, The King of Elfland's Daughter

Wendell Berry
“Until we understand what the land is, we are at odds with everything we touch. And to come to that understanding it is necessary, even now, to leave the regions of our conquest - the cleared fields, the towns and cities, the highways - and re-enter the woods. For only there can a man encounter the silence and the darkness of his own absence. Only in this silence and darkness can he recover the sense of the world's longevity, of its ability to thrive without him, of his inferiority to it and his dependence on it. Perhaps then, having heard that silence and seen that darkness, he will grow humble before the place and begin to take it in - to learn from it what it is. As its sounds come into his hearing, and its lights and colors come into his vision, and its odors come into his nostrils, then he may come into its presence as he never has before, and he will arrive in his place and will want to remain. His life will grow out of the ground like the other lives of the place, and take its place among them. He will be with them - neither ignorant of them, nor indifferent to them, nor against them - and so at last he will grow to be native-born. That is, he must reenter the silence and the darkness, and be born again.
(pg. 27, "A Native Hill")”
Wendell Berry, The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays

Harlan Coben
“You live among this ridiculous wealth and you get lost. You worry about nonsense like spirituality and inner health and satisfaction and relationships.You have no idea what it is like to starve, to watch yourself turn to bones.”
Harlan Coben, The Woods

Charles Beaumont
“A cold wind raced across the surrounding fields of wild grass, turning the land into a heaving dark-green ocean. It sighed up through the branches of cherry trees and rattled the thick leaves. Sometimes a cherry would break loose, tumble in the gale, fall and split, filling the night with its fragrance. The air was iron and loam and growth.

He walked and tried to pull these things into his lungs, the silence and coolness of them.

But someone was screaming, deep inside him. Someone was talking. ("Hunger")”
Charles Beaumont, Shock!

George Meredith
“just got back from a beautiful eve of winter solstice snowshoeing. my heart was lost and enlivened by both the hush of the mountainous snow world and a very fun irreverence with friends. i shared a solstice quote but did not share this one.

so in the spirit of the year--happy solistice! may there be ever present and growing light in your life as nature unfolds the same in the upcoming months.

"sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive leap off the rim of earth across the dome. it is a night to make the heavens our home. more than the nest whereto apace we strive. lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive, in swarms outrushing from the golden comb. they waken waves of thoughts that burst to foam: you throb in me, the dead revive. yon mantle clothes us: there, past mortal breath, life glistens on the river of death. it folds us, flesh and dust; and have we knelt, or never knelt, or eyed as kine the springs of radiance, the radiance enrings: and this is the soul's haven to have felt." --from _winter heavens_”
George Meredith

Michael Montoure
“He'd grown unused to woods like this. He'd become accustomed to the Northwest, evergreen and shaded dark. Here he was surrounded by soft leaves, not needles; leaves that carried their deaths secretly inside them, that already heard the whispers of Autumn. Roots and branches that knew things.”
Michael Montoure, Slices

Lauren Lipton
“A hundred years or more, she's bent her crown
in storm, in sun, in moonsplashed midnight breeze.
surviving all the random vagaries
of this harsh world. A dense - twigged veil drifts down
from crown along her trunk - mourning slow wood
that rustles tattered, in a hint of wind
this January dusk, cloudy, purpling
the ground with sudden shadows.
How she broods -
you speculate - on dark surprise and loss,
alone these many years, despondent, bent,
her bolt-cracked mate transformed to splinters, moss.
Though not alone, you feel the sadness of a
twilight breeze. There's never enough love;
the widow nods to you. Her branches moan.”
Lauren Lipton

Kevin  Walker
“When we lose these woods, we lose our soul. Not simply as individuals, but as a people.”
Kevin Walker, These Moments Pass: Poems

Gertrude Atherton
“An English wood is like a good many other things in life-- very promising at a distance, but a hollow mockery when you get within. You see daylight on both sides, and the sun freckles the very bracken. Our woods need the night to make them seem what they ought to be--what they once were, before our ancestors' descendants demanded so much more money, in these so much more various days. ("The Striding Place")”
Gertrude Atherton, The Bell in the Fog & Other Stories

Julien Gracq
“No, what numbed these fields, peopled with bad dreams was not the oppressive grip of a plague but rather an ailing retreat, a sort of sad widowhood. Man had started to subdue these vacant expanses, then had grown weary of eating into it, and now even the desire to preserve what had been claimed had perished. He had established everywhere an ebb, a sorrowful withdrawal. His cuttings into the forest, which were seen at long intervals, had lost their hard edges, their distinct notches: now a thick brushwood had driven its sabbath into the broad daylight of the glades, hiding the naked trunks as high as their lowest branches.”
Julien Gracq

Daphne du Maurier
“As soon as he had disappeared Deborah made for the trees fringing the lawn, and once in the shrouded wood felt herself safe.

She walked softly along the alleyway to the pool. The late sun sent shafts of light between the trees and onto the alleyway, and a myriad insects webbed their way in the beams, ascending and descending like angels on Jacob's ladder. But were they insects, wondered Deborah, or particles of dust, or even split fragments of light itself, beaten out and scattered by the sun?

It was very quiet. The woods were made for secrecy. They did not recognise her as the garden did. ("The Pool")”
Daphne du Maurier, Echoes from the Macabre: Selected Stories

“Every time I think I am out of the woods, I am back in the fire.”
Robert Black

Frankie Boyle
“Barack Obama will appeal to both black and white voters in America. White voters who'll think he's Tiger Woods.”
Frankie Boyle

Ariel Gordon
“Most everything influences my work. Working in a used bookstore. Going for walks in the woods and peering at mushrooms. Writing reviews. Coming from frumpy, grumpy, faded-at-the-knees Winnipeg.”
Ariel Gordon

Jonathan Gash
“Woods are grim places. Farmers shoot squirrels, crows, magpies, and hang them up on trees to warn Mother Nature to get it together or else. Much notice she takes, being in league with God. They're a right pair, more carnage than the rest of us put together.”
Jonathan Gash, The Rich and the Profane

Aishabella Sheikh
“Keith traced my face, traced my hands and traced my body as the crickets chirped a love song and I lost myself in his eyes that stroked my soul and punctured my heart, like a poison arrow in a shooting star”
Aishabella Sheikh, Lavinia

Craig D. Lounsbrough
“How do I explain the woods? For to do so using sturdy and manageable terms such as biodiversity or environment or ecosystem might suit a scientific framework. But such terms miss the mystery of life merging in a million different forms that all unify in a glorious tapestry so complete and utterly perfect that not to be stunned is to be dead in spirit. And therefore we might consider the fact that the woods make us alive in spirit when the definitions of men would kill life by enslaving it to definition.”
Craig D. Lounsbrough

Ilaria Tuti
“Marini ubbidì e i messaggi sonori del bosco li raggiunsero come aliti di un organismo ospite. Non c’era silenzio come Teresa aveva immaginato, ma una sinfonia di voci armoniose legate le une alle altre da una simbiosi profonda: i richiami tra i rami verdeggianti, lo scroscio dell’acqua che cadeva tra le rocce, lo sciabordio dolce che emetteva quando scorreva più lenta, a monte. I crepitii repentini tra i rovi, i fruscii di esseri striscianti, nel sottobosco. Il vento era un fremito che percorreva le sommità degli alberi come un’onda che fletteva e risollevava. Anche la luce sembrava avere un suono in quello spazio fatto di vibrazioni: era un tono basso che si allungava sulla pelle di Teresa, sui petali dei fiori, sulle foglie e sulle cortecce e ne liberava il profumo. Saltava sull’acqua in giochi luminosi e scaldava la pietra luccicante.”
Ilaria Tuti, Ninfa dormiente

“Jenny turned and Jenny ran to where she thought the woods began, she turned and ran from you. But deeper into woods she flew with every step, until the dew and darkness led her back to you.”
Rachel Plummer, Wain: LGBT Reimaginings of Scottish Folktales

Craig D. Lounsbrough
“The woods invite me into themselves so that I might be drawn out of myself. And if I have never engaged in such an exchange, I will find myself a man so full of myself that I am nothing but myself. And that is a terribly small thing to be.”
Craig D. Lounsbrough

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