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

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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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I always enjoyed the hearty society of a snowstorm.
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I will follow my instincts, be myself for good or ill, and see what will be the upshot.
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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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In God's wildness lies the hope of the world.
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Wilderness is a necessity... there must be places for human beings to satisfy their souls.
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Our lives are rounded with a sleep.
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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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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 water in music the oar forsakes. The air in music the wing forsakes. All things in move in music and write it. The mouse, lizard, and grasshopper sing together on the Turlock sands, sing with the morning stars.
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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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I am hopelessly and forever a mountaineer.
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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 tide of visitors will float slowly about the bottom of the valley as harmless scum collecting in hotel and saloon eddies, leaving the rocks and falls eloquent as ever.
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A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.
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Listen to them! How wholly infused with God is this one big word of love that we call the world!
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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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The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.
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In the woods is perpetual youth.
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A little pure wildness is the one great present want, both of men and sheep.
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