Quote

Yet how hard most people work for mere dust and ashes and care, taking no thought of growing in knowledge and grace, never having time to get in sight of their own ignorance.

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
Thought
Dust
Care
Mere
Hard
Sight
Work
Ignorance
Never
Taking
Time
Grace
People
Growing
Knowledge
Ashes

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No Sierra landscape that I have seen holds anything truly dead or dull, or any trace of what in manufactories is called rubbish or waste everything is perfectly clean and pure and full of divine lessons.
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One may as well dam for water tanks the people's cathedrals and churches, for no holier temple has ever been consecrated by the heart of man.
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Raindrops blossom brilliantly in the rainbow, and change to flowers in the sod, but snow comes in full flower direct from the dark, frozen sky.
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All Nature's wildness tells the same story: the shocks and outbursts of earthquakes, volcanoes, geysers, roaring, thundering waves and floods, the silent uprush of sap in plants, storms of every sort, each and all, are the orderly, beauty-making love-beats of Nature's heart.
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In this silent, serene wilderness the weary can gain a heart-bath in perfect peace.
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Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.
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My meals were easily made, for they were all alike and simple, only a cupful of tea and bread.
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Any fool can destroy trees, they cannot run away.
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But no temple made with hands can compare with Yosemite. Every rock in its walls seems to glow with life...as if into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures.
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I...am always glad to touch the living rock again and dip my hand in the high mountain air.
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Wander here a whole summer, if you can ... Thousands of wild blessings will search you and soak you as if you were a sponge, and the big days will go by uncounted
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The power of imagination makes us infinite.
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Imagination is usually regarded as a synonym for the unreal. Yet is true imagination healthful and real, no more likely to mislead than the coarse senses. Indeed, the power of imagination makes us infinite.
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God cannot save them from fools.
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But to gain a perfect view, one must go yet further, over a curving brow to a slight shelf on the extreme brink.
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I wonder if leaves feel lonely when they see their neighbors falling?
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What a psalm the storm was singing, and how fresh the smell of the washed earth and leaves, and how sweet the still small voices of the storm!
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One can make a day of any size and regulate the rising and setting of his own sun and the brightness of its shining.
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Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.
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Few are altogether deaf to the preaching of pine trees. Their sermons on the mountains go to our hearts . . .
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