Quote

At the touch of this divine light, the mountains seemed to kindle to a rapt, religious consciousness, and stood hushed like devout worshippers waiting to be blessed.

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
Consciousness
Kindles
Waiting
Mountains
Religious
Stood
Rapt
Light
Seemed
Hushed
Like
Touch
Worshippers
Blessed
Kindle
Mountain
Glaciers
Divine
Devout

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Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer.
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Surely all God's people, however serious or savage, great or small, like to play.
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Only spread a fern-frond over a man's head and worldly cares are cast out, and freedom and beauty and peace come in.
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Who publishes the sheet-music of the winds or the music of water written in river-lines?
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The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.
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We all flow from one fountain.
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I am hopelessly and forever a mountaineer.
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Going to the mountains is going home.
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Anyhow we never know where we must go, nor what guides we are to get - -people,storms, guardian angels, or sheep.
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The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.
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Winds are advertisements of all they touch, however much or little we may be able to read them telling their wanderings even by their scents alone.
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Any fool can destroy trees. They cannot run away and if they could, they would still be destroyed-chased and hunted down as long as fun or a dollar could be got of their bark hides.
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It is always interesting to see people in dead earnest, from whatever cause, and earthquakes make everybody earnest.
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Trees go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!
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In God's wildness lies the hope of the world.
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These temple destroyers, devotees of ravaging commercialism, seem to have a perfect contempt for Nature, and, instead of lifting their eyes to the God of the mountains, lift them to the Almighty Dollar.
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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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Going to the woods is going home, for I suppose we came from the woods originally.
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One day's exposure to mountains is better than a cartload of books.
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