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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!
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
Still
Leaves
Smell
Singing
Psalm
Sweet
Psalms
Small
Washed
Voice
Voices
Stills
Fresh
Earth
Storm
More quotes by John Muir
When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.
John Muir
I...am always glad to touch the living rock again and dip my hand in the high mountain air.
John Muir
The substance of the winds is too thin for human eyes, their written language is too difficult for human minds, and their spoken language mostly too faint for the ears.
John Muir
I've had a great time in South America and South Africa. Indeed it now seems that on this pair of wild hot continents I've enjoyed the most fruitful year of my life.
John Muir
Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings.
John Muir
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.
John Muir
As long as I live, I'll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I'll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I'll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can.
John Muir
Writing is like the life of a glacier one eternal grind.
John Muir
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.
John Muir
Wherever a Scotsman goes, here goes Burns. His grand whole, catholic soul squares with the good of all therefore we find him in everything, everywhere.
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The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.
John Muir
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.
John Muir
All wilderness seems to be full of tricks and plans to drive and draw us up into God's light.
John Muir
We all flow from one fountain.
John Muir
It is always interesting to see people in dead earnest, from whatever cause, and earthquakes make everybody earnest.
John Muir
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.
John Muir
Going into the woods, is going home
John Muir
So extraordinary is Nature with her choicest treasures, spending plant beauty as she spends sunshine, pouring it forth into land and sea, garden and desert. And so the beauty of lilies falls on angels and men, bears and squirrels, wolves and sheep, birds and bees.
John Muir
No wonder the hills and groves were God's first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself.
John Muir
Between every two pine trees there is a door leading to a new way of life.
John Muir