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Tag Name "Pines" (46)

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Pines a thousand years old. Every year they must go farther for them: they recede, like beavers and Indians, before the white man.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Climb the steep Cold Mountain way Roads to Cold Mountain are many and never ending The valleys are long and deep, the peaks piled high The streams are wide, the grass is thick The moss is slippery though there is no rain The pines sigh though there is no wind Who can escape the snares of the world And come to sit with me among the white clouds?
Hanshan
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Man has created some lovely dwellings, some soul-stirring literature. He has done much to alleviate physical pain. But he has not ... created a substitute for a sunset, a grove of pines, the music of the winds, the dank smell of the deep forest, or the shy beauty of a wildflower.
Harvey Broome
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I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beechtree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines.
Henry David Thoreau
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The young pines springing up in the corn-fields from year to year are to me a refreshing fact.
Henry David Thoreau
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For pines are gossip pines the wide world through And full of runic tales to sigh or sing.
James Elroy Flecker
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Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines.
John Keats
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Moonless winter night- a billow of rising fog hides the distant pines
Lenard Moore
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Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring - that delicious commingling of the perfume of arbutus, the odor of pines, and the snow - soaked soil just warming into life.
Neltje Blanchan
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A practical girl never pines she takes action.
Adriana Trigiani
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Prize the natural spaces and shorelines most of all, because once they're gone, with rare exceptions they're gone forever. In our bones we need the natural curves of hills, the scent of chapparal, the whisper of pines, the possibility of wildness. We require these patches of nature for our mental health and our spiritual resilience.
Richard Louv
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It is in midwinter that I sometimes glean from my pines... a curious transfusion of courage.
Aldo Leopold
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If God had wanted to be a big secret, He would not have created babbling brooks and whispering pines.
Robert Breault
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In winter, when the dismal rain Comes down in slanting lines, And Wind, that grand old harper, smote His thunder-harp of pines.
Alexander Smith
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He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, Good fences make good neighbors.
Robert Frost
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Before he can become a wolf, the lycanthrope strips naked. If you spy a naked man among the pines, you must run as if the Devil were after you.
Angela Carter
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The covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus up to the chin in water, and yet thirsty.
Thomas Adams
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When I stepped away from the white pine, I had the definite feeling that we had exchanged some form of life energy. ... Clearly white pines and I are on the same wavelength. What I give back to the trees I cannot imagine. I hope they receive something, because trees are among my closest friends.
Anne LaBastille
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How right it is to love flowers and the greenery of pines and ivy and hawthorn hedges they have been with us from the very beginning.
Vincent Van Gogh
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All we want, whether we are honeybees, salmon, trash-collecting ants, ponderosa pines, coyotes, human beings, or stars, is to love and be loved, to be accepted, cherished, and celebrated simply for being who we are. Is that so very difficult?
Derrick Jensen
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Sitting over words Very late I have heard a kind of whispered sighing Not far Like a night wind in pines or like the sea in the dark The echo of everything that has ever Been spoken Still spinning its one syllable Between the earth and silence.
W. S. Merwin
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I do not know when it was, nor where it was, nor how young I may have been, but I can recall. . . a sudden feeling of happiness at hearing the voice of the pines.
Frank Bolles
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Your peaks are beautiful, ye Apennines! In the soft light of these serenest skies From the broad highland region, black with pines, Fair as the hills of Paradise they rise, Bathed in the tint Peruvian slaves behold In rosy flushes on the virgin gold.
William C. Bryant
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There is a Precious Mountain Even the Seven Treasures cannot compare A cold moon rises through the pines Layer upon layer of bright clouds How many towering peaks? How many wandering miles? The valley streams run clear Happiness forever!
Hanshan
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