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Nature in her green, tranquil woods heals and soothes all afflictions.

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
Green
Nature
Soothes
Afflictions
Heals
Tranquil
Affliction
Heal
Woods

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Some people miss flesh as a drunkard misses his dram.
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Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.
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In the woods is perpetual youth.
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I always enjoyed the hearty society of a snowstorm.
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I am losing precious days. I am degenerating into a machine for making money. I am learning nothing in this trivial world of men. I must break away and get out into the mountains to learn the news
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...Good luck and Good work for the happy mountain raindrops, each one of them a high waterfall in itself, descending from the cliffs and hollows of the clouds to the cliffs and hollows of the rocks, out of the sky-thunder into the thunder of the falling rivers.
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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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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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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.
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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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Handle a book as a bee does a flower, extract its sweetness but do not damage it.
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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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I care to live only to entice people to look at Nature’s loveliness.
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Nature is ever at work building and pulling down, creating and destroying, keeping everything whirling and flowing, allowing no rest but in rhythmical motion, chasing everything in endless song out of one beautiful form into another.
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No temple made with hands can compare with Yosemite.
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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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Come to the woods, for here is rest.
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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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Nature had gathered her choicest treasures , to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with her
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I never saw a discontented tree.
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