Dark Trees Quotes

#1. I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.

Friedrich Nietzsche

#2.
Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
than prettiness.

Mary Oliver

#3. No my friend, darkness is not everywhere, for here and there I find faces illuminated from within; paper lanterns among the dark trees.

Carole Borges

#4. She stepped out from among their shifting confusion of lovely lights and shadows. A circle of grass, smooth as a lawn, met her eyes, with dark trees dancing all around it. And then
Oh Joy! For he was there: the huge Lion, shining white in the moonlight, with his huge black shadow underneath him.

C.S. Lewis

#5. Dark trees leaped across his vision like aghast dancers in the nacreous light.

Stephen R. Donaldson

#6. Meditate outdoors. The dark trees at night are not really the dark trees at night, it's only the golden eternity.

Jack Kerouac

#7. It was a black and white day of frost, which crawled along the dark trees and outlined twig and branch. The air was misty, and distant objects assumed a mysterious importance. Slight sounds, too, suggested infinite activities to the mind.

("A Tribute Of Souls")

Robert S. Hichens

#8. The wood was silent, still and secret in the evening drizzle of rain, full of the mystery of eggs and half-open buds, half unsheathed flowers. In the dimness of it all trees glistened naked and dark as if they had unclothed themselves, and the green things on earth seemed to hum with greenness.

D.H. Lawrence

#9. Do you know the land where the lemon-trees blossom;where the golden oranges glow in the dark foliage'.

Maeve Binchy

#10. He'd grown unused to woods like this. He'd become accustomed to the Northwest, evergreen and shaded dark. Here he was surrounded by soft leaves, not needles; leaves that carried their deaths secretly inside them, that already heard the whispers of Autumn. Roots and branches that knew things.

Michael Montoure

#11. A hush came over the world, and it grew dark. There was no sunlight at the bottom of the redwood forest, only a dim, gray-green glow, like the light at the bottom of the sea. The air grew sweet, and carried a tang of lemons. They became aware of a vast forest canopy spreading over their heads.

Richard Preston

#12. Only trees are rooted in land, and there they stay. You should know this, great oak. But a man whose heart is rooted in family finds a home wherever his pack is, and he is truly the free man.

Dannika Dark

#13. He had to get inside. It was essential that he know everything, the routes she took, her schedule, and the lay of the land.
The silver moon glowed overhead, mocking him. Somewhere in the trees an owl hooted its laughter at his failure.
Randy
from Spring Cleaning
Coming Summer 2012

Brandi Salazar

#14. The leaves of the trees are like the thoughts of the men: Some are bright, some dark; some fresh, some rotten; some healthy, some diseased.

Mehmet Murat Ildan

#15. When I looked up through the web of trees, the night sky fell over me, and for a moment, I lost my boundaries, feeling like the sky was my own skin and the moon was my heart beating up there in the dark.

Sue Monk Kidd

#16. What has roots as nobody sees,
Is taller than trees,
Up, up it goes,
And yet never grows?
(Answer: a mountain)

J.R.R. Tolkien

#17. Haunted trees
covered behind the curtains of their own leaves
stare at the dark
from the fringe of streets.

Suman Pokhrel

#18. Enormous and solid but swaying, beaten by the wind but chained, murmur of a million leaves against my window. Riot of trees, surge of dark green sounds. The grove, suddenly still, is a web of fronds and branches.

Octavio Paz

#19. On the morning, Daddy and I get up at six o'clock because Christmas trees must be bought in the dark. We walk to the other end of town, as the big harbour is just the right setting for buying a Christmas tree. We spend hours choosing, looking at every branch suspiciously. It's always cold.

Tove Jansson

#20. We went into the Dark Woods and I almost had to get gay fairy married again and now I feel really bad and Ryan got bad-touched by trees and Fairy King Dimitri was cryptic and annoying and apparently has a size kink.

T.J. Klune

#21. DOST thou not hear the silver bell,
Through yonder lime-trees ringing?
'Tis my lady's light gazelle.
To me her love thoughts bringing,
All the while that silver bell
Around his dark neck ringing.

Thomas Moore

#22. Trees surrounded them from all sides, casting long inky shadows that would, at another time, have been scary. But there was no point in being scared of what might be lurking in the shadows when the biggest bad, of all big bads, was gazing at her intently.

Caroline Hanson

#23. Sombre thoughts and fancies often require a little real soil or substance to flourish in; they are the dark pine-trees which take root in, and frown over the rifts of the scathed and petrified heart, and are chiefly nourished by the rain of unavailing tears, and the vapors of fancy.

John Frederick Boyes

#24. Nothing but trees.

Robert Liparulo

#25. Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light.

Jack London

#26. Love is like encountering a forest and having to chop down every tree but one. Oh, and you have to chop down each tree by hugging it until it falls.

Dark Jar Tin Zoo

#27. This room was worse than she thought.
Dark. Remote. Practically in the trees. Practically Enchanted.
A calculus test would feel intimate in here.

Rainbow Rowell

#28. I believe that there is truth to be found inside every person, but that very few people find it because it is dark inside, and deeply hidden, and the trees grow thickly.

Kate Elliott

#29. The sun had just slipped behind the trees and evening cast its dark, smoky shadow.

Nancy B. Brewer

#30. I must see new things and investigate them. I want to taste dark water and see crackling trees and wild winds.

Egon Schiele

#31. You...mulched him?'
I bought a few extra trees, and when we ran out of room around the house, I suggested one by the road. You can't even tell the dirt was dug up now.

Paul Melko

#32. My hometown is a very boring city. There isn't a lot of industry - there are a lot of trees. It's not like Beijing where the sky is always dark. In my city the sky is blue and the sun shines.

Liu Wen

#33. We all need something to soften the sharp edges. To give us balance. Otherwise, I think we'd find ourselves stumbling around in the dark like lost souls.

Karen White

#34. People and trees receded on either hand like the dark sides of a tunnel as I hurtled on to the still, bright point at the end of it, the pebble at the bottom of the well, the white sweet baby cradled in its mother's belly.

Sylvia Plath

#35. No matter how dark the cloud, there is always a thin, silver lining, and that is what we must look for. The silver lining will come, if not to us then to next generation or the generation after that. And maybe with that generation the lining will no longer be thin.

Wangari Maathai

#36. I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I'd had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger-nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God.

Frances Farmer

#37. Your soul is a dark forest. But the trees are of a particular species, they are genealogical trees.

Marcel Proust

#38. Do you remember the suburbs and the plaintive flock of landscapes
The cypress trees projected their shadows under the moon
That night when as summer waned I listened
To a languorous bird forever wroth
And the eternal noise of a river wide and dark
(The Voyager)

Pierre Albert-Birot

#39. There was a little corner of his mind that was still his own, and light came through it, as though a chink in the dark: light out of the past. It was actually pleasant, I think, to hear a kindly voice agin, bringing up memories of wind, and trees, and sun on the grass, and such forgotten things.

J.R.R. Tolkien

#40. The town of Niagara-on-the-Lake was like something out of a Christmas movie. The trees were bare except for the occasional pine tree that stood out dark green against the white snow.

Nicki Edwards

#41. In a sort of slow flash, Henrietta had her first open view of Paris - watery sky, wet light, light water, frigid, dark-inky buildings, spans of bridges, trees. This open light gash across Paris faded at each end. It was not exactly raining.

Elisabeth Bowen

#42. I was so full of missing her that I felt my heart would splinter into a thousand tiny pieces, but I found comfort in the thought of them together up there in the shade of those old trees, overlooking the bay. It tempered my grief ever so slightly, like a feather come to lodge in a dark place.

Ute Carbone

#43. On the hill behind her crows flew one by one into the bare trees, arranging their dark blots in the scrim of branches and adding their warnings to the drear sounds of this day. Gone, gone, they rasped. Here was a dead world learning to speak in dissonant, unbearable sounds.

Barbara Kingsolver

#44. I love bright words, words up and singing early;
Words that are luminous in the dark, and sing;
Warm lazy words, white cattle under trees;
I love words opalescent, cool, and pearly,
Like midsummer moths, and honied words like bees, Gilded and sticky, with a little sting.

Elinor Wylie

#45. It felt bizarre to be ignored in general, much less by an embodiment of Aidan
who used to stare at her so hard that he'd run into trees.

Kresley Cole

#46. The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother's milk. Darkness will make you strong.

George R R Martin

#47. The sky was electric blue above the trees but the yard felt dark. Stephanie went to the edge of the lawn and sat her forehead on her knees. The grass and soil were still warm from the day. She wanted to cry but she couldn't. The feeling was too deep.

Jennifer Egan

#48. At night the cries of cats making love or fighting, their caterwauling in the dark, told us that the world was pure emotion, flung back and forth among its creatures, the agony of the one-eyed Siamese no different from that of the Lisbon girls, and even the trees plunged in feeling.

Jeffrey Eugenides

#49. The sun shone through the green of the trees. The sky was a blue only a deity could paint. Beauty always found refuge in the ugly. Truth be told, beauty couldn't really exist without the ugly. How can there be light if there is no dark? Gerard

Harlan Coben

#50. Voices in the forest tell of dark and twisted enchantments - as dark and twisted as the roots and grasping branches of the trees themselves. Even the most gnarled tree is eloquent in the telling of its own tale.

Brian Froud

#51. The best Christmas trees come very close to exceeding nature. If some of our great decorated trees had been grown in a remote forest area with lights that came on every evening as it grew dark, the whole world would come to look at them and marvel at the mystery of their great beauty.

Andy Rooney

#52. She eased across the creaking floorboards to the nearest window.
The view encompassed the woods, with dark shapes smeared into one entity, like in her sketchbook.
What lay amongst the trees?

Jordan Elizabeth Mierek

#53. It is early morning; outside, the sky is dark and the trees move dramatically in the wind. Soon a storm will come. I want to live to see it. This is the way of nature: to persuade us around one more bend, to beckon us to behold one more vista.

Elizabeth Berg

#54. It was dark now, and broodingly sluggish. Like something supine waiting to spring, with just the tip of its tail twitching. Leaves stood still on the trees. An evil green star glinted in the black sky like a hostile eye, like an evil spying eye.
("For The Rest Of Her Life")

Cornell Woolrich

#55. The dark forest looked on fire. The trees were lit up like funeral pyres. She thought she saw bodies strapped to the trees, burning, burning, burning.

Jeanette Winterson

#56. I want the light filtered down through the trees painting flesh like a mosaic and filling up the dark in me. I want to see how sunset decorates your hair.

Tyler Knott Gregson

#57. Why, Yrael?" it said, as the last of the dark gave way to silver, and the shining sphere of metal sank slowly to the ground. "Why?"
"Life," said Yrael, who was more Mogget than it ever knew. "Fish and fowl, warm sun and shady trees, the field mice in the wheat, under the cool light of the moon.

Garth Nix

#58. A strong wind sang sadly as it bent the trees in front of the Hall. A half moon shone through the dark, flying clouds on to the wild and empty moor.

Arthur Conan Doyle

#59. The SUV carves its way through dark pine forests. Morning sun passes through the pleached trees, dappling the windows of the vehicle.

Chuck Wendig

#60. From the dark forest that bordered the soft ploughed fields, came a low cry that did not belong to any animal. It was accompanied by the sound of branches bending and snapping, and the splintering of wood as trees were crushed or toppled onto their sides.

Peter James West

#61. Let all the green leaves be mine
as long as the trees define
shades created by their limbs
for the soil made with victims
of atrocity's vileness
to redeem the fragileness

Munia Khan

#62. It was the time when the field mice ventured out, after the hawks had settled in the trees but before the owls came to hunt. The sky was now the color Elv liked best - a tender dark blue, falling to earth like ashes.

Alice Hoffman

#63. If you're looking for a place to rest Cold Mountain is good for a long stay The breeze blowing through the dark pines Sounds better the closer you come And under the trees a white haired man Mumbles over his Taoist texts Ten years now he hasn't gone home He's even forgotten the road he came by

Hanshan

#64. At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen,
You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun.
And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten,
And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done.

Rudyard Kipling

#65. Lily?" a deep voice called from behind me. I didn't recognize it. I spun around and backed up as a tall, dark-haired man stepped into view. My stomach dropped. Had he been hiding between the trees?

Natasha Preston

#66. Can a person who has been brought up in the heart of a thick dark forest, where one has to beat a path through multiple layers of trees just to take a letter to the post office, have any conception of what it's like to spend one's entire childhood waiting for a single tree to grow?

Audur Ava Olafsdottir

#67. I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself what a wonderful world. I see skies of blue and clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself what a wonderful world

Louis Armstrong

#68. In the bush he taught the knots I use to tie my blanket to my saddle Ds also the way I stand to use a carpenter's plane and the trick of catching fish with a bush fly and a strip of greenhide these things are like the dark marks made in the rings of great trees locked forever in my daily self.

Peter Carey

#69. They spoke no more of the small news of
the Shire far away, nor of the dark shadows and perils that
encompassed them, but of the fair things they had seen in
the world together, of the Elves, of the stars, of trees, and the
gentle fall of the bright year in the woods.

J.R.R. Tolkien

#70. In the dark of the trees he could smell splintered wood and see white upturned faces like wide white dirty flowers.

Michael Shaara

#71. She devoured stories with rapacious greed, ranks of black marks on white, sorting themselves into mountains and trees, stars, moons and suns, dragons, dwarfs, and forests containing wolves, foxes and the dark.

A.S. Byatt

#72. I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky; It was a childish ignorance, But now 't is little joy To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy.

Thomas Hood

#73. Outside, across the putrid moat and under the dark mute trees, I would often lie and dream for hours about what I read in the books; and would longingly picture myself amidst gay crowds in the sunny world beyond the endless forests.

H.P. Lovecraft

#74. I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees.

Pablo Neruda

#75. The world grows bigger as the light leaves it. There are no boundaries and no landmarks. The trees and the rocks and the anthills begin to disappear, one by one, whisked away under the magical cloak of evening.

Beryl Markham

#76. I cannot see in the dark like the Northern flying squirrel - Glaucomys sabrinus - who lives in the trees of the Pacific Northwest and is strictly nocturnal. So I take a flashlight.

Ned Hayes

#77. It was growing dark, and somehow the shadows made it feel as if all the trees had taken a collective step towards the house, edging in to shut out the sky.

Ruth Ware

#78. There are trees, and then there are trees at night. Trees after dark become colorless and sizeless and moving things.

Maggie Stiefvater

#79. Shadows were too black, and when a breeze stirred the trees, the shadows changed in a disquieting way.

Stephen King

#80. He growled. The noise echoed through the area. Birds flew from the trees. They appeared like dark dots in the starry sky.

Kenya Wright

#81. The inside of the forest differed a lot than the outside. From the outside, it looked like the trees were spread apart enough to get some light in, but when I went inside, it was completely dark and the branches blocked out almost all sunlight. This

Jason Ryu

#82. away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no two plunging in the same direction. A furious blast roared through the trees, making everything

Anonymous

#83. The claustrophobia of the forest. The first few trees visible before her, monochrome contrasts of black shadow and white moonlight, and beyond that an entire continent, wilderness uninterrupted from ocean to ocean with so few people left between the shores.

Emily St. John Mandel