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How narrow we selfish conceited creatures are in our sympathies! How blind to the rights of all the rest of creation!

John Muir

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John Muir
Age: 76 †
Born: 1838
Born: April 21
Died: 1914
Died: December 24
Author
Autobiographer
Botanist
Conservationist
Ecologist
Engineer
Essayist
Explorer
Geologist
Glaciologist
Inventor
Mountaineer
Naturalist
J. Muir
Rights
Sympathies
Conceited
Narrow
Selfish
Blind
Creatures
Creation
Rest

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Every atom in creation may be said to be acquainted with and married to every other, but with universal union there is a division sufficient in degree for the purposes of the most intense individuality.
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God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools.
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All wilderness seems to be full of tricks and plans to drive and draw us up into God's light.
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Strange the faithless fuss made about taking a walk in the safest and pleasantest of all places, a wilderness.
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We all travel the Milky Way together, trees and men.
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In this silent, serene wilderness the weary can gain a heart-bath in perfect peace.
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I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.
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In the eternal youth of Nature, you may renew your own.
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Few are altogether deaf to the preaching of pine trees. Their sermons on the mountains go to our hearts and if people in general could be got into the woods, even for once, to hear the trees speak for themselves, all difficulties in the way of forest preservation would vanish.
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Any glimpse into the life of an animal quickens our own and makes it so much the larger and better in every way.
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Tug on anything in nature and you will find it connected to everything else.
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I wish I knew where I was going. Doomed to be carried of the spirit into the wilderness, I suppose. I wish I could be more moderate in my desires, but I cannot, and so there is no rest.
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Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.
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I am losing precious days. I am degenerating into a machine for making money. I am learning nothing in this trivial world of men. I must break away and get out into the mountains to learn the news
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The power of imagination is infinite.
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Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings.
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Going into the woods, is going home
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We all flow from one fountain- Soul. All are expressions of one love.
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The grand show is eternal It is always sunrise somewhere
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