Best 16 quotes in «yosemite quotes» category

  • By Anonym

    I knew my destiny when I first experienced Yosemite.

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    I was living in Monterey, a place where the classic photographers - the Westons, Wynn Bullock and Ansel Adams - came for a privileged view of nature. But my daily life very rarely took me to Point Lobos or Yosemite; it took me to shopping centers, and gas stations and all the other unhealthy growth that flourished beside the highway. It was a landscape that no one else had much interest in looking at. Other than me.

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    Most people are on the world, not in it-- having no conscious sympathy or relationship to anything about them-- undiffused seporate, and rigidly alone like marbles of polished stone, touching but seporate.

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    In Yosemite, we see how everyone can inherit the earth. But that gift requires a change of heart, a new intention, a deliberate turning. From now on, we must go forward, back into the world of violence and war, to do our part to end the killing, the suffering, and the ongoing destruction of Mother Earth. Yosemite, along with all of creation, calls us to wake up, stand up, and stop the insane destruction of the earth before it's too late.

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    Maybe you weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but like every American, you carry a deed to 635 million acres of public lands. That's right. Even if you don't own a house or the latest computer on the market, you own Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, Golden Gate National Recreation Area, and many other natural treasures.

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    Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer.

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    Down through the middle of the Valley flows the crystal Merced, River of Mercy, peacefully quiet, reflecting lilies and trees and the onlooking rocks; things frail and fleeting and types of endurance meeting here and blending in countless forms, as if into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures, to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with her.

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    It was Chelsea who captures our plummet before it reaches the deepest parts of our vulnerability.

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    Onward and upward he pushed until rock, ground, and forest came to an end, until there was nothing but a sharp edge of blunt earth protruding in the late light of the range, where he could see well beyond the park boundaries to national forest land that he had once scouted on foot and horseback. He remembered it then as roadless, the only trails being those hacked by Indians and prospectors. He had taken notes on the flora and fauna, commented on the age of the bristlecone pine trees at the highest elevations, the scrub oak in the valleys, the condors overhead, the trout in alpine tarns. He had lassoed that wild land in ink, returned to Washington, and sent the sketch to the president, who preserved it for posterity. What did Michelangelo feel at the end of his life, staring at a ceiling in the Vatican or a marble figure in Florence? Pinchot knew. And those who followed him, his great-great-grandchildren, Teddy's great-great-grandchildren, people living in a nation one day of five hundred million people, could find their niche as well. Pinchot felt God in his soul, and thanked him, and weariness in his bones. He sensed he had come full circle.

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    As they kissed, the valley and the surrounding cliffs spun and toppled upside down. The saturated greens of the grasses, the stark white of the waterfall, and the warm grays of the cliffs merged and streamed past them in ethereal ribbons, like barely blended paint. Then the blinding blue sky bobbed back into place overhead, and the world was open and free, bursting with sublime majesty.

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    The vision of this massive body of water with towering monoliths jutting straight upward to the heavens, stole our ability to think.Colors that made the wildflowers look dull, streaked up and down across the great pillars of hardened rock. The clouds and sky were mirrored in the glassy surface of the deep expanse of lake.

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    The story is, a man came up to Yosemite and the ranger was sitting at the front gate and the man said, "I've only got one hour to see Yosemite. If you only had one hour to see Yosemite, what would you do?" And the ranger said, "Well, I'd go right over there, and I'd sit on that rock, and I'd cry." - Nevada Barr

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    This place, the land is more ancient and pure; it's like a concentrated tonic for the soul. If you take too much it can infect you, and if you don't take enough you have missed it completely and your efforts were in vein.

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    The parts of my mind that apply logic and understanding had somehow abandoned me, and something primitive and instinctual took control.

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    We don't speak of it, or react to it. Paralyzed in a reality of uncertainty and madness,this is where we are.

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    A perfect day would be to get into the car, drive out to Yosemite and go camping.