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

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God cannot save them from fools.
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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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Rivers flow not past, but through us tingling, vibrating, exciting every cell and fiber in our bodies, making them sing and glide.
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In God's wildness lies the hope of the world.
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In the eternal youth of Nature, you may renew your own.
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The most distinctive, and perhaps the most impressive, characteristic of American scenery is its wilderness.
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Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.
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Go quietly alone, no harm will befall you.
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Between every two pine trees there is a door leading to a new way of life.
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Going to the woods is going home, for I suppose we came from the woods originally.
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Our lives are rounded with a sleep.
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In this silent, serene wilderness the weary can gain a heart-bath in perfect peace.
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Nature as a poet, an enthusiastic workingman, becomes more and more visible the farther and higher we go for the mountains are fountains – beginning places, however related to sources beyond mortal ken.
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No words will ever describe the exquisite beauty and charm of this mountain park – Nature’s landscape garden at once tenderly beautiful and sublime. No wonder it draws nature-lovers from all over the world.
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How many hearts with warm, red blood in them are beating under cover of the woods, and how many teeth and eyes are shining? A multitude of animal people, intimately related to us, but of whose lives we know almost nothing, are as busy about their own affairs as we are about ours.
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One learns that the world, though made, is yet being made that this is still the morning of creation that mountains long conceived are now being born, channels traced for coming rivers, basins hollowed for lakes.
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God never made an ugly landscape. All that sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild.
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The world, we are told, was made especially for man - a presumption not supported by all the facts... Why should man value himself as more than a small part of the one great unit of creation?
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I care to live only to entice people to look at Nature’s loveliness.
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Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on seas and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.
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