Tree Quotes

If the forest has a day of fire and the heat of the flames does not consume a special tree, it will still be changed; charred, but still standing.

Her wild race caused the dried-up ferns, thorny plants, and low-hung tree branches—away from the lake—to grab at our clothing in the mad dash over the narrow packed dirt through the trees.

Colored lights blink on and off, racing across the green boughs. Their reflections dance across exquisite glass globes and splinter into shards against tinsel thread and garlands of metallic filaments that disappear underneath the other ornaments and finery.Shadows follow, joyful, laughing sprites.The tree is rich with potential w

This is the forest primeval.

I Am VerticalBut I would rather be horizontal.I am not a tree with my root in the soilSucking up minerals and motherly loveSo that each March I may gleam into leaf,Nor am I the beauty of a garden bedAttracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,Unknowing I must soon unpetal.Compared with me, a tree is immortalAnd a flower-head not tall, but more startling,And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.Sometimes I think that when I am sleepingI must most perfectly resemble them--Thoughts gone dim.It is more natural to me, lying down.Then the sky and I are in open conversation,And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:The the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me."I Am Vertical", 28 March 1961

Caring a tree is caring of your soul.

A tree without roots is just a piece of wood.

I think that I shall never seeA poem lovely as a tree.A tree whose hungry mouth is pressedAgainst the earth's sweet flowing breast;A tree that looks at God all dayAnd lifts her leafy arms to pray;A tree that may in summer wearA nest of robins in her hair;Upon whose bosom snow has lain;Who intimately lives with rain.Poems are made by fools like me,But only God can make a tree.

God gives urge, urge gives pleasure, pleasure gives pains, pains gives fruits, fruits gives trees, trees die and go to hell!

Wisdom is the ultimate blooms of a tree we call life.

We are one at the root - we just part at the branch

If you want to know how good a tree is, examine how many birds flock to feed off of its fruit.

It is in the shade that you look up at a tree and appreciate its efforts.

The world of light and starry grace;within your mind I live to trace.Your thought’s speed in thunder’s glory,lightening my being with dream’s story.I embrace the tree carrying your nameYour unspoken wish : the heart of fame.

Being an artist means, not reckoning and counting, but ripening like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confidence in the storms of spring without fear that after them may come no summer.

The miracle of a single tree in the middle of nowhere originates from its own power, its own belief in itself!

If you waste time watering a fruitless tree, fruitful ones may die of thirst.

It's a Christmas miracle. I had no tree. Now I have a forest.

It's just one more thing she hadn't considered, and as the idea of it settles over her, she realizes again how entwined their lives are. They're like two trees whose branches have grown together. Even if you pull them out by the trunks, they're still going to be twisted and tangled and nearly impossible to separate at the roots.

Words, no matter whether they are vocalized and made into sounds or remain unspoken as thoughts, can cast an almost hypnotic spell upon you. You easily lose yourself in them, become hypnotized into implicitly believing that when you have attached a word to something, you know what it is. The fact is: You don’t know what it is. You have only covered up the mystery with a label. Everything, a bird, a tree, even a simple stone, and certainly a human being, is ultimately unknowable. This is because it has unfathomable depth. All we can perceive, experience, think about, is the surface layer of reality, less than the tip of an iceberg.

When we are under a tree, we are under a temple, a temple of countless goodnesses!

Everyone ought to plant a tree in their lifetime.

trees [-] Inside their wooden samurai armor they are geisha beauties, each one a ‘person-of-the-arts,’ limbs dancing, arranging flowers, carrying the wind’s music, the calligraphy of their roots pure poetry, rhyming earth and berth.

Woodman spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me And I'll protect it now.

If you can't climb a tree, shake it, and its fruit will fall.

I know in my mindI would leave you nowIf I had the strength toI would leave you upTo your own devicesWill you not talkCan you take pityI don't ask muchBut won't you speakPlease.

(...) pick up your axe, start at the rootsdon't miss the trunk, never forget:to end life truly and finallystart at the roots or end there.

The HurricaneThe tree lay downon the garage roof and stretched, You have your heaven, it said, go to it.

Live like a tree, giving, forgiving and free.

If you wait for the mango fruits to fall, you'd be wasting your time while others are learning how to climb the tree

The size and height of the tree determines how heavily the ground will shake when it falls. The cassava tree falls and not even the pests in the forest are aware. The baobab tree falls and the whole forest looks empty! Such is human life!

Plant the trees just for beauty,If flowers bloom or fruits ripen, Enjoy it as a gift and appreciate nature as a universal giver.

Why?"He stopped pacing and looked at her as if she'd just asked him to count every leaf on every tree in the Old Place. "Because... you're you.

There is nothing more lovely in life than the union of two people whose love for one another has grown through the years, from the small acorn of passion, into a great rooted tree

Let all the green leaves be mineas long as the trees define shades created by their limbsfor the soil made with victimsof atrocity's vileness to redeem the fragileness

The flower doth not worry, and the tree doth not waver.

If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, doesn't it just lie there and rot?

Don’t sit at home and wait for mango tree to bring mangoes to you wherever you are. It won’t happen. If you are truly hungry for change, go out of your comfort zone and change the world.

Deciding whether or not to trust a person is like deciding whether or not to climb a tree because you might get a wonderful view from the highest branch or you might simply get covered in sap and for this reason many people choose to spend their time alone and indoors where it is harder to get a splinter.

Plants are more courageous than almost all human beings: an orange tree would rather die than produce lemons, whereas instead of dying the average person would rather be someone they are not.

When we reject our origins, we become the product of whatever soil that we find ourselves planted; the colors of our leaves change as we consume borrowed nutrients with borrowed roots and, like a tree, we grow.

Wind either breaks a tree or teaches it to dance.

Without imagination, things were only as they appeared - and that was blindness. Things were more than they appeared, so much more. When he considered an oak tree, it was not just a tree. To someone small, like an ant, it was a whole landscape of rugged barky cliffs and big green leaf-plains that quaked when the sky was restless, a place of many strange creatures where fearsome winged beasts could pluck and devour someone in a blink.

Just as you won’t enjoy the fruits of the tree you dislike, so you won’t even wait to learn from people you hate.

And though our roots belong to the same tree, our branches have grown in different directions.

I am at home among trees.

Just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree.

There's a tree," Starflight said, jumping to his feet. "In the fo

A hundred years or more, she's bent her crownin storm, in sun, in moonsplashed midnight breeze.surviving all the random vagariesof this harsh world. A dense - twigged veil drifts downfrom crown along her trunk - mourning slow woodthat rustles tattered, in a hint of windthis January dusk, cloudy, purplingthe ground with sudden shadows. How she broods -you speculate - on dark surprise and loss,alone these many years, despondent, bent,her bolt-cracked mate transformed to splinters, moss.Though not alone, you feel the sadness of atwilight breeze. There's never enough love;the widow nods to you. Her branches moan.

Stop listening to fairy that money grows on the tree

Tall oaks from little acorns grow.

Most people under the influence of the wrong and common belief which says that the sense of man’s life is to grow a tree, build a house and bring up a son

There is no such thing as a special category of science called applied science; there is science and its applications, which are related to one another as the fruit is related to the tree that has borne it.

Be flexible like trees; when the wind blows bend, but do not break.

This is wonderful, wonderful! Be the bird. You are the bird. Sacrifice yourself to abandoned family values....

Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind.Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things.Their language has been lost.But not the gestures.

Smart people that like good health spend several hours outdoors daily in the shade of trees.

Cats, based on their corporeal existence, have a different view on trees even if one dismisses the fruit eating aspect. A closer look at common domestic feline behaviour makes these views spring forth like a kitten pouncing on a ball of yarn. It can be hard to miss.

I want my writing to bring people not just to think of "trees" as they mostly do now, but of each individual tree, and each kind of tree.

When she had arranged her household affairs, she came to the library and bade me follow her. Then, with the mirror still swinging against her knees, she led me through the garden and the wilderness down to a misty wood. It being autumn, the trees were tinted gloriously in dusky bars of colouring. The rowan, with his amber leaves and scarlet berries, stood before the brown black-spotted sycamore; the silver beech flaunted his golden coins against my poverty; firs, green and fawn-hued, slumbered in hazy gossamer. No bird carolled, although the sun was hot. Marina noted the absence of sound, and without prelude of any kind began to sing from the ballad of the Witch Mother: about the nine enchanted knots, and the trouble-comb in the lady's knotted hair, and the master-kid that ran beneath her couch. Every drop of my blood froze in dread, for whilst she sang her face took on the majesty of one who traffics with infernal powers. As the shade of the trees fell over her, and we passed intermittently out of the light, I saw that her eyes glittered like rings of sapphires.("The Basilisk")