Best 2091 quotes in «tree quotes» category

The tree falls not at the first stroke.

The tree is stripped, All color, fragrance gone, Yet already on the bough, Uncaring spring!

The tree of Knowledge is a Tree of Knowledge of good and evil.

The trees called to me, urging me to abandon what I knew and vanish into the oncoming night. It was a desire that had been tugging me with disconcerting frequency these days.

The tree is but a huge boquet.

The tree of liberty grows only when watered by the blood of tyrants.

The tree of life should perhaps be called the coral of life, base of branches dead; so that passages cannot be seen-this again offers contradiction to constant succession of germs in progress.

The troubles of the young are soon over; they leave no external mark. If you wound the tree in its youth the bark will quickly cover the gash; but when the tree is very old, peeling the bark off, and looking carefully, you will see the scar there still. All that is buried is not dead.

The tree looks like a dog, barking at heaven.

The tree of nonsense is watered with error, and from its branches swing the pumpkins of disaster.

The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said.

The trees come up to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth

The trees in Siberia are miles apart, that is why the dogs are so fast.

The tree that would grow to heaven must send its roots to hell.

(...) the tree forsakes not the flower: the flower falls from the tree.

The tree laden with fruits always bends low. If you wish to be great, be lowly and meek.

The Tree of Knowledge grew fast by, Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.

The trees and plants show respect for each other by the way they live in harmony. This also applies to the animal kingdom.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds To darken nature and be summer woods.

The tree which fills the arms grew from the tiniest sprout.

The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief. Is it that they are born again And we grow old? No, they die too. Their yearly trick of looking new Is written down in rings of grain. Yet still the unresting castles thresh In fullgrown thickness every May. Last year is dead, they seem to say, Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

The trees are Indian Princes, But soon they'll turn to Ghosts; The scanty pears and apples Hang russet on the bough; Its Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late, 'Twill soon be Winter now. Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! And what will this poor Robin do? For pinching days are near.

The trees are our lungs, the rivers our circulation, the air our breath, and the earth our body.

The trees like lungs filling with air. My sister, the mean one, pulling my hair.

The tree that God plants, no winde hurts it.

The tree the tempest with a crash of wood Throws down in front of us is not to bar Our passage to our journey's end for good, But just to ask us who we think we are.

The truthfulness of materials of constructions, concrete, bricks and stone, shall be maintained in all buildings constructed or to be constructed. The seed of Chandigarh is well sown. It is for the citizens to see that the tree flourishes.

The truly great and good, in affliction, bear a countenance more princely than they are wont; for it is the temper of the highest hearts, like the palm-tree, to strive most upwards when it is most burdened.

The value of the things is not in themselves autonomously, but that God made them, and thus they deserve to be treated with high respect. The tree in the field is to be treated with respect. It is not to be romanticized as the old lady romanticizes her cat (that is, she reads human reactions into it). This is wrong because it is not true. When you drive the axe into the tree when you need firewood, you are not cutting down a person; you are cutting down a tree. But while we should not romanticize the tree, we must realize God made it and it deserves respect because He made is as a tree.

The vine that has grown old on an old tree falls with the ruin of that tree, and through that bad companionship must perish with it.

The wackos get their information through the Christian right, Christian radio, mail, the internet and telephone trees.

The vulnerability of precious things is beautiful because vulnerability is a mark of existence. The destruction of Troy. The fall of the petals from fruit trees in blossom. To know that what is most precious is not rooted in existence - that is beautiful.

The weakness of most men they do not know how to become a stone or tree.

The well-ordered mind knows the value, no less than the charm, of reticence. The fruit of the tree of knowledge ... falls ripe from its stem; but those who have eaten with sobriety find no need to discuss the processes of digestion.

The wealth of any ecosystem is its perennials. The primal herbivore-predator-disturbance-rest dance is literally the breath and pulse of the earth. Grasses recycle oxygen far more efficiently than trees. The turnover is faster. Grass reaches out and turns solar energy into carbon. Tillage hyper-aerates the soil, burning out carbon. But because a plant creates bilateral symmetry at the soil horizon, it sloughs off root mass when the top gets chopped off.

The willow is my favorite tree. I grew up near one. It's the most flexible tree in nature and nothing can break it - no wind, no elements, it can bend and withstand anything.

The willow tree plays the water like a harp.

The wisdom of a lonely tree is higher than the wisdom of the forest, because there is more thinking in it!

The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.

The wind had seized the tree and ha, and ha, It held the shivering, the shaken limbs, Then bathed its body in the leaping lake.

The wind that makes music in November corn is in a hurry. The stalks hum, the loose husks whisk skyward in half-playing swirls, and the wind hurries on.... A tree tries to argue, bare limbs waving, but there is no detaining the wind.

The woods always look different at night...as if the daytime trees and flowers and stones had gone to bed and sent slightly more ominous versions of themselves to take their places.

The world is a dangerous place, full of people who don't trust each other. This is why I am staying up in this tree.

The works of a person that begin immediately to decay, while those of him who plants begin directly to improve. In this, planting promises a more lasting pleasure than building; which, were it to remain in equal perfection, would at best begin to moulder and want repairs in imagination. Now trees have a circumstance that suits our taste, and that is annual variety.

They never exhale, the trees; on a very windy day, they rustle and inhale, and then the leaves and the branches all tremble as though something means to strangle the life from them. The sky watches on. The world is filled with anticipation, as if to wonder if this day will be a great day, or a horrible day, or the last day.

The worldly comforts are not for me. I am like a traveler, who takes rest under a tree in the shade and then goes on his way.

They all went down in droves because just scenes of palm trees and beaches can get pretty boring.

they ran in the sunlight, creating their own breeze which pressed their dresses into their damp skin. Reaching a kind of square of four locked trees which promised cooling; they flung themselves into the shade to taste their lip sweat and contemplate the wildness that had come upon them so suddenly

[They say] "We do not know how this is, but we know that God can do it." You poor fools! God can make a cow out of a tree, but has He ever done so? Therefore show some reason why a thing is so, or cease to hold that it is so.

They're still building and testing / But what can we do / Condemning the seas and the land and the trees to a tomb