e3619b2
|
This life is yours. Take the power to choose what you want to do and do it well. Take the power to love what you want in life and love it honestly. Take the power to walk in the forest and be a part of nature. Take the power to control your own life. No one else can do it for you. Take the power to make your life happy.
|
|
nature
honesty
happiness
life
love
inspirational
forest
power
|
Susan Polis Schutz |
41c7cb7
|
A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.
|
|
winter
fear
forest
george-r-r-martin
a-song-of-ice-and-fire
the-wall
north
coldness
trees
wind
snow
|
George R.R. Martin |
bf93c36
|
Trees're always a relief, after people.
|
|
nature
humanity
forest
trees
|
David Mitchell |
d70f02a
|
We all have forests on our minds. Forests unexplored, unending. Each one of us gets lost in the forest, every night, alone.
|
|
mind
forest
|
Ursula K. Le Guin |
481b584
|
And Harry remembered his first nightmarish trip into the forest, the first time he had ever encountered the thing that was then Voldemort, and how he had faced him, and how he and Dumbledore had discussed fighting a losing battle not long thereafter. It was important, Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated. . . . And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the shelter of a parent's arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no waking from his nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been before.
|
|
death
darkness
forest
fighting
safety
protection
|
J.K. Rowling |
408daa2
|
the fallen leaves in the forest seemed to make even the ground glow and burn with light
|
|
foliage
forests
october
forest
woods
halloween
|
Malcolm Lowry |
cf14ff7
|
Their life is mysterious, it is like a forest; from far off it seems a unity, it can be comprehended, described, but closer it begins to separate, to break into light and shadow, the density blinds one. Within there is no form, only prodigious detail that reaches everywhere: exotic sounds, spills of sunlight, foliage, fallen trees, small beasts that flee at the sound of a twig-snap, insects, silence, flowers. And all of this, dependent, closely woven, all of it is deceiving. There are really two kinds of life. There is, as Viri says, the one people believe you are living, and there is the other. It is this other which causes the trouble, this other we long to see.
|
|
metaphor
people
forest
trees
|
James Salter |
90bdf32
|
His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin.
|
|
fear
forest
cloak
ser-waymar-royce
george-r-r-martin
a-song-of-ice-and-fire
the-wall
black
snow
|
George R.R. Martin |
907613a
|
The forest did not tolerate frailty of body or mind. Show your weakness, and it would consume you without hesitation.
|
|
forest
weakness
jungle
|
Tahir Shah |
fe23145
|
A forest ecology is a delicate one. If the forest perishes, its fauna may go with it. The Athshean word for world is also the word for forest.
|
|
world
forest
ecology
word
|
Ursula K. Le Guin |
df3ccd8
|
When a man in a forest thinks he is going forward in a straight line, in reality he is going in a circle, I did my best to go in a circle, hoping to go in a straight line.
|
|
malone-dies
molloy
page-94
part-i
the-unnamable
sly
part-1
forest
logic
wit
|
Samuel Beckett |
5ca0d9e
|
"A Boat O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival and he started crying when he saw the Ferris wheel. Electric green and red tears flowed down his furry cheeks. He looked like a boat
|
|
carnival
ferris-wheel
forest
werewolf
wolf
|
Richard Brautigan |
b15072c
|
I did not want to think about people. I wanted the trees, the scents and colors, the shifting shadows of the wood, which spoke a language I understood. I wished I could simply disappear in it, live like a bird or a fox through the winter, and leave the things I had glimpsed to resolve themselves without me.
|
|
nature
forest
woods
trees
myths
fox
|
Patricia A. McKillip |
9167986
|
Unicorns are immortal. It is their nature to live alone in one place: usually a forest where there is a pool clear enough for them to see themselves-for they are a little vain, knowing themselves to be the most beautiful creatures in all the world, and magic besides. They mate very rarely, and no place is more enchanted than one where a unicorn has been born. The last time she had seen another unicorn the young virgins who still came seeking her now and then had called to her in a different tongue; but then, she had no idea of months and years and centuries, or even of seasons. It was always spring in her forest, because she lived there, and she wandered all day among the great beech trees, keeping watch over the animals that lived in the ground and under bushes, in nests and caves, earths and treetops. Generation after generation, wolves and rabbits alike, they hunted and loved and had children and died, and as the unicorn did none of these things, she never grew tired of watching them.
|
|
time
magic
nature
enchanted
born
virgins
pool
vain
unicorn
mate
forest
spring
watching
animals
unicorns
beautiful
|
Peter S. Beagle |
0e16360
|
So through endless twilights I dreamed and waited, though I knew not what I waited for. Then in the shadowy solitude my longing for light grew so frantic that I could rest no more, and I lifted entreating hands to the single black ruined tower that reached above the forest into the unknown outer sky. And at last I resolved to scale that tower, fall through I might; since it were better to glimpse the sky and perish, than to live without even beholding day.
|
|
solitude
light
tower
forest
sky
waiting
longing
unknown
|
H.P. Lovecraft |
62e8342
|
He envied the bark, which had been, in the course of one lifetime, both forest and fire. One endured; one destroyed.
|
|
forest
|
Karen Joy Fowler |
bd48e7e
|
He would eventually have to pass through the forest, but he felt no fear. Of course - the forest was inside him, he knew, and it made him who he was.
|
|
reassurance
fear
life
fear-in-life
forest-metaphor
life-is-like-a-forest
forest
life-lesson
|
Haruki Murakami |
d222506
|
The whole forest was peopled with frightful sounds--the creaking of the trees, the howling of wild beasts, and the yell of Indians; while sometimes the wind tolled like a distant church bell, and sometimes gave a broad roar around the traveler, as if all Nature were laughing him to scorn. But he was himself the chief horror of the scene, and shrank not from its other horrors.
|
|
nature
forest
horror
|
Nathaniel Hawthorne |
8a5e383
|
There comes a stage at which a man would rather die cleanly by a bullet than by the unknown terror of the phantom in the forest.
|
|
fear
phantom
forest
jungle
terror
|
Tahir Shah |
b0ee35a
|
From that first moment of doubt, there was no peace for her; from the time she first imagined leaving her forest, she could not stand in one place without wanting to be somewhere else. She trotted up and down beside her pool, restless and unhappy. Unicorns are not meant to make choices. She said no, and yes, and no again, day and night, and for the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms.
|
|
time
worms
wanting
unhappy
unicorn
forest
restless
restlessness
leaving
peace
unicorns
|
Peter S. Beagle |
f1e2e06
|
Animals had returned to what was left of the forest...clusters of orange butterflies exploded off the blackish purple piles of bear sign and winked and fluttered magically like leaves without trees. More bears than people traveled the muddy road, leaving tracks straight up and down the middle of it...
|
|
bears
butterflies
forest
trees
|
Denis Johnson |
229b937
|
"The cloudless day is richer at its close; A golden glory settles on the lea; Soft, stealing shadows hint of cool repose To mellowing landscape, and to calming sea. And in that nobler, gentler, lovelier light, The soul to sweeter, loftier bliss inclines; Freed form the noonday glare, the favour'd sight Increasing grace in earth and sky divines. But ere the purest radiance crowns the green, Or fairest lustre fills th' expectant grove,
|
|
nature
romance
sadness
love
love-lost
lustre
pantheism
forest
melancholy
sky
twilight
reminiscence
memory
|
H. P. Lovecraft |
d0c42e9
|
But I do like churches. The way it feels inside. It feels good when you just sit there, like you're in a forest and everything's really quiet, except there's still this sound you can't hear.
|
|
silence
forest
quiet
peace
|
Tim O'Brien |
d3eab50
|
a single-file army of ants biting a mammoth tree into uniform grains and hauling it down to the dark for their ravenous queen. and, in reply, a choir of seedlings arching their necks out of rotted tree stumps, sucking life out of death. this forest eats itself and lives forever.
|
|
nature
forest
|
Barbara Kingsolver |
685c836
|
"Why do some trees stay green while others change their color?" "Certain trees need to show off, dear. I'm sure that my big brother could explain why it happens. Dahlaine loves to explain things, and he can be very tedious about it. I prefer simpler answers. The trees are sad because summer's almost over."
|
|
nature
autumn-leaves
mansplain
mansplaining
forest
trees
sexism
|
David Eddings |
cd55002
|
...when humans experience something as powerful as a forest or a rainbow, it is not crazy to assign its existence to a Greater Intelligence.
|
|
god
rainbow
forest
|
Anne Lamott |
fb3e493
|
There were two forests for every one you entered. There was the one you walked in, the physical echo, and then there was the one that was connected to all the other forests, with no consideration of distance, or time. The forest primeval, remembered through the collective memory of every tree in the same way that people remembered myth- through the collective subconscious that Jung mapped, the shared mythic resonance that lay buried in every human mind. Legend and myth, all tangled in an alphabet of trees remembered, not always with understanding, but with wonder. With awe.
|
|
myth
spirit
mythic
forest
trees
|
Charles de Lint |
d131240
|
The concrete replaces the forest. You get in its way, you get paved over. If you can find a way to live in the cracks, you can thrive anywhere. There were always cracks.
|
|
forest
|
James S.A. Corey |
2ee8549
|
"I prefer feeling insignificant," said Jess. "I don't believe that." "I didn't say worthless, I said insignificant, as in the grand scheme of things." "But why?" "Because humans have such a complex. We're so self-involved. You have to get out to a place like this to remember how small humanity really is." And Jess was right. Numbers didn't matter here. Money didn't count, and all the words and glances, the quick exchanges that built or tore down reputations had no meaning in this place. The air was moist. Fallen leaves, spreading branches, and crisscrossing roots wicked water, so that the trees seemed to drink the misty air. Jess said, "All your worries fade away, because..." Emily finished her thought. "The trees put everything in perspective."
|
|
nature
fresh-air
insignificant
jess-bach
forest
perspective
|
Allegra Goodman |
c55b215
|
Outside, under the marquee of the hotel, he stood a moment as he did each night beneath the marquee of the Hotel Hyperion, while he decided what direction to take, what to do. And suddenly, realizing it was not the Hotel Hyperion, that the circumstances were quite different, he felt loneliness spring up like a dark forest all around him. The odd thing was, he felt no impulse to hurry after her, to find her somehow. What would he have to offer her except the history of weakness, loneliness, and inadequacy, the decline and fall of himself? He himself was the core of the loneliness around him, and its core was inadequacy. He was inadequate even in love.
|
|
loneliness
history
dark
love
offer
inadequacy
hurry
forest
fall
weakness
direction
impulse
decline
|
Patricia Highsmith |
f869b92
|
"Their song reminds me of a child's neighborhood rallying cry--ee-ock-ee--with a heartfelt warble at the end. But it is their call that is especially endearing. The towhee has the brass and grace to call, simply and clearly, "tweet". I know of no other bird that stoops to literal tweeting."
|
|
nature
birdcall
page-251-2
birdsong
natural-world
forest
listen
stereotype
unique
pride
|
Annie Dillard |
9c417fc
|
A small grove of linden trees grew on the far side of the lake, below the palace. Dortchen made her way there carefully, not wanting to be seen so close to the King's residence. The trees were in full blossom, bees reeling drunkenly from the pale-yellow flowers that hung down in clusters below the heart-shaped leaves. Dortchen harvested what she could reach, breathing the sweet scent deeply, then picked handfuls of the wild roses that grew in a tangled hedge along the path. She would crystallise the petals with sugar when she got home, or make rose water to sell in her father's shop. She plucked some dandelions she found growing wild in a clearing, and then some meadowsweet, and at last reached the ancient old oak tree she knew from her last foray into the royal park. Here she found handfuls of the sparse grey moss, and she hid it deep within her basket, beneath the flowers and herbs and leaves.
|
|
herbs
flower-picking
forest
flowers
|
Kate Forsyth |
c1349ac
|
He has cat blood, I reflected sourly, no doubt that was how he managed to sneak up on me in the darkness.
|
|
walking-at-night
scotland
forest
|
Diana Gabaldon |
31d1573
|
I could see into the shadows, where the very blades of grass and the leaves and buds of plants were sharply defined though it was a dark night. I was acutely aware of my ears, hot, pulsing, and humming. Now fragrance took command, and I was struck with the scents of the evening. Unable to resist, I rolled on the ground, breathing in the wet tang of dewy grass and the musk of the mud in which it grew. I glided my muzzle through the blades, letting each soft edge tickle my nose. When I lifted it, I caught the delicate fragrance of wildflowers and the powdery sweetness of red clover. The aromas permeated my body as if I could smell with my eyes, my toes, and my tail. I detected the essence of living fowl on the feathers of a fallen bird, but was quickly distracted by the blood-warm effluvia of rabbits and voles wafting up from a small hole in the ground. The air carried the scent of wet leaves after a forest rain. My senses were torn in two, with one thing calling my attention into the air and another, even more compelling, back down to the earth. The miasma of fetid earth, God's creatures, and the aromatic night air swirled in my head and through my body, competing with a cacophony of noises that grew louder and louder. The muffled sound of my paws as they made contact with the ground resonated in my ears. I felt in my body the vibration of all things touching the earth- animals small and large, as they interacted with the same soil that I was treading. The rustle of leaves in the trees, the screech of the wind blowing the hairs on my face, the fluttering of bees' wings, the distant cry of an owl- I heard each as a distinct, sharp sound. My senses were in control of my body. I was a living machine that processed sights, smells, and sounds.
|
|
in-the-dark-of-the-night
mina-murray
olfactory-sensors
forest
|
Karen Essex |