Best 381 quotes in «woods quotes» category

To heal mine aching moods, Give me God's virgin woods.

To me, Elijah Wood is one of the best actors of my generation. He's so incredibly present and in the moment, when you're working with him, and then we just chat away about anything off camera because he's a lovely guy.

To me, the advantage of the recorder is that it is so natural. I love the fact that it is just a piece of wood, that there are almost no mechanics involved.

To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.

Ultimately, literature is nothing but carpentry. With both you are working with reality, a material just as hard as wood.

We could do it, you know." "What?" "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it.

We are in a very strange way going back to the mentality of the time when Americans went in covered wagons. I imagine they had a piece of cloth, and the piece of furniture they carried with them meant to be a good piece of wood, and sturdy. We're going back to that.

We became so close [with Rachel Evan Wood], in the process of leading up to making the film [Into the Forest ]. We were saying goodbye to each other, wrapping the film, and we knew we'd be seeing each other again.

We did every scene together, every day for four months, and it could have been a disaster, if we didn't get on, but we clicked straight away. Elijah Wood is just the nicest guy.

We didn't have a drill so he would burn the holes through the wood with a metal rod that he heated up in a fire. Can you imagine an ordinary crew doing that?

Well tended garden is better than a neglected wood lot

We've been everywhere around Northwest. I was biking until the clouds came. We'll go in the woods, we'll go up and down the river. I love the woods in Sandy, but it's an hour away, so I don't love that.

We're always lucky,' I said and like a fool I did not knock on wood.

We've seen what happened in Libya, what a disaster that's been driven by Hillary Clinton, and the disaster in Syria and almost disaster in Egypt. What a close call that's been. We're not out of the woods yet with Egypt.

What is sour in the house a bracing walk in the woods makes sweet.

We were so far back in the woods, they almost had to pipe in sunlight.

When all else fails, and to stand firm seems impossible, stand on the wood of the Cross; it will float with you.

What life can I live that will let me breathe in and out and love somebody or something and not run off screaming into the woods?

what sets wilderness apart in the modern day is not that it's dangerous (it's almost certainly safer than any town or road) or that it's solitary (you can, so they say, be alone in a crowded room) or full of exotic animals (there are more at the zoo). it's that five miles out in the woods you can't buy anything.

When I finish a book, I get extremely restless; I have to aggressively find ways to occupy myself; going off into the woods alone, doing things that are physically or mentally demanding to keep myself busy until the next big idea comes.

When I am dead, I will not hurt anymore, will it Mama?...When I am dead, build me a little monument of stones in the woods.

When trouble comes, wise men take to their work; weak men take to the woods.

When I'm walking with my father through the woods, and we reach a place where you see so far that your ego suddenly shrinks because you are so touched by the dimension of your surroundings.

When I'm killed, don't think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there's one thing that I know well, I'm damned if I'll be damned to Hell!

When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall?

When we make those guitars we make tons of prototypes, I have all those. And once a guitar has come out there's all different versions and colours and woods and I have all those. There's hundreds of them.

When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall? Even some sects of philosophers have felt the necessity of importing the woods to themselves, since they did not go to the woods. They planted groves and walks of Plantanes, where they took subdiales ambulationes in porticos open to the air. Of course, it is of no use to direct our steps to the woods, if they do not carry us thither.

When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost.

When you are on the set, you have different departments - you got camera, sound, props, hair, makeup, catering, executives. Imagine each one of those are spokes on the wagon wheel. All the spokes come into a hub: the hub is the director. The wood the spokes go into are distribution and promotion; the steel wheel around the hub is the film. None of these have anything in common with each other.

When you say fear of the unknown, that is the definition of fear; fear is the unknown, fear is what you do not know, and its genetically within us so that we feel safe. We feel scared of the woods because were not familiar with it, and that keeps you safe.

You are axes, in a world of wood. And the wood remembers when it has been cut, even if the axe forgets.

Who first invented work, and bound the free And holiday-rejoicing spirit down . . . . To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood? . . . . Sabbathless Satan!

With Charles Woods, it was the first time I had ever seen tissue from a dead person used to save a human life. It piqued my curiosity.

Yes, I am going into the woods; I am going into the unity of all things.

you must not use wood to put out the fire.

You know what they say about big hitters...the woods are full of them.

A house you can rebuild; a bridge you can restring; a washed-out road you can fill in. But there is nothing you can do about a tree but mourn.

Your hooves have stamped at the black margin of the wood, Even where horrible green parrots call and swing. My works are all stamped down into the sultry mud.

After all this time questioning whether I could trust myself, my instinct had proven right — I’d found a path in pathless woods.

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.

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")

A GIANT heart Needs a GIANT life! GIANT arms Can hold a world! Let me lead a GIANT'S life! No little steps, no holding back! A GIANT'S way, a GIANT'S track! Let my mistakes Be GIANT ones! For I can't live in little worlds! I need the space to run my fill I need to jump from hill to hill And if you take my woods from me I'll wander out into the sea And try to find another world So I can live a GIANT'S life!

Alice haunted the mossy edge of the woods, lingering in patches of shade. She was waiting to hear his Austin-Healey throttle back when he careened down the utility road separating the state park from the cabins rimming the lake, but only the whistled conversation of buntings echoed in the branches above. The vibrant blue males darted deeper into the trees when she blew her own 'sweet-sweet chew-chew sweet-sweet' up to theirs. Pine seedlings brushed against her pants as she pushed through the understory, their green heads vivid beneath the canopy. She had dressed to fade into the forest; her hair was bundled up under a long-billed cap, her clothes drab and inconspicuous. When at last she heard his car, she crouched behind a clump of birch and made herself as small as possible, settling into a shallow depression of ferns and leaf litter.

And we will meet in the woods far far away from this hustle and bustle... and share love and sunshine.

And here, it seems to me, is much of the secret of the charm of woods in England. A wood should never be vast. The best woods are small, a few acres in extent, not much more than copses. The word forest creates in the mind a feeling of grandeur, of something primeval.

And so she remained, like everything that mattered to me then, secret—to be pursued in the woods by moonlight, when I was supposed to be studying.

A palace cannot make you rich but a cottage in the woods can! We become rich only through simpleness and modestness!

...as if Hollywood were the name of the enchanted forest where you loose yourself and find yourself, again; the wood that changes you; the wood where you go mad; the wood where the shadows life longer than you do.

A reasonable amount of danger is part of the price of living.

A sense of desolation settled within me: a cold, slimy stone lodged under my lungs. There was nothing happy about the woods, I thought, especially at night.