Quote

Quench love, and what is left of a man's life but the folding of a few jointed bones and square inches of flesh? Who would call that life?

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
Men
Square
Love
Squares
Life
Inches
Bones
Flesh
Call
Jointed
Left
Folding
Would
Quench

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In the beauty and grandeur of individual trees, and in number and variety of species, the Sierra forests surpass all others
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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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To ask me whether I could endure to live without friends is absurd. It is easy enough to live out of material sight of friends, but to live without human love is impossible.
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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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The power of imagination is infinite.
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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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There is that in the glance of a flower which may at times control the greatest of creation's braggart lords.
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The blessings of one mountain day, whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm, he is rich forever.
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Ink cannot tell the glow that lights me at this moment in turning to the mountains. I feel strong [enough] to leap Yosemite walls at a bound.
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Another glorious Sierra day in which one seems to be dissolved and absorbed and sent pulsing onward we know not where. Life seems neither long nor short, and we take no more heed to save time or make haste than do the trees and stars. This is true freedom, a good practical sort of immortality.
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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!
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I never saw a discontented tree.
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There is not a fragment in all nature, for every relative fragment of one thing is a full harmonious unit in itself.
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The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.
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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.
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When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.
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In God's wildness lies the hope of the world.
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