In The Pines Quotes

#1. It was November
the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.

L.M. Montgomery

#2. When energy turns in - what Buddha calls paravritti, the coming back of your energy to the source - suddenly clarity is attained. Then you can see clouds a thousand miles away, and then you can hear ancient music in the pines.

Osho

#3. I can see clouds a thousand miles away, hear ancient music in the pines.

Ikkyu

#4. Gifford presented the house to Bonaguidi as a series of 'telescopic' spaces in the landscape, and his inspiration hints at the atmosphere in the Pines at this time. A telescope is a device often used for spying: it elongates when engaged in order to capture objects in its gaze.

Christopher Bascom Rawlins

#5. The moon twangs its silver strings;
The river swoons into town;
The wind beds down in the pines,
Covers itself with stars.

George Elliott Clarke

#6. Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, Tick, tick, tick, what little iambics, While Homer and Whitman roared in the pines.

Edgar Lee Masters

#7. But the sounds behind me tell me why. I risk a glance and see so many Zs on our asses that I wonder if they've been doing pilates all this time to get in shape for the great Whispering Pines mad-dash marathon.

Jake Bible

#8. Winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird ...

John Geddes

#9. Once your baby tree is in the ground, check it daily, because the first three years are critical. Remember that you are your tree's only friend in a hostile world.

Hope Jahren

#10. The lights of Wayward Pines glowed against the cliffs that boxed it in, and for the first time, those steep mountain walls seemed inviting. Fortifications

Blake Crouch

#11. 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

#12. I didn't care much what happened to me, so chance didn't matter.

Alice Notley

#13. Maybe I'd die. Maybe I'd burn to ash in wind, or blacken like the pines. Charred skeletons, I'd add one to the count. I didn't feel scared. I didn't think to panic. The trail wasn't burning. I was raw, ripe for loving. I wasn't stopping.

Aspen Matis

#14. 'Your beauty was the first that won the place, And scal'd the walls of my undaunted heart, Which, captive now, pines in a caitive case, Unkindly met with rigour for desert; - Yet not the less your servant shall abide, In spite of rude repulse or silent pride.' WILLIAM FOWLER.

Elizabeth Gaskell

#15. The property adjoined the bay, and when the tide came in it was possible to go kayaking, which some of the residents not yet disabled by their infirmities were happy to do. This is how I would like to live, thought Irina, taking deep breaths of the sweet aroma of pines and laurels.

Isabel Allende

#16. The covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus up to the chin in water, and yet thirsty.

Thomas Adams

#17. Not only was there no traffic but the rain came down in buckets and I had no shelter. I had to run under some pines to take cover; this did no good; I began crying and swearing and socking myself on the head for being such a damn fool.

Jack Kerouac

#18. In our bones we need the natural curves of hills, the scent of chaparral, the whisper of pines, the possibility of wildness.

Richard Louv

#19. It seemed a strange thing to him, when earth was earth and rain was rain, that scrawny pines should grow in the scrub, while by every branch and lake and river there grew magnolias. Dogs were the same everywhere, and oxen and mules and horses. But trees were different in different places.

Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

#20. Utterance
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

#21. The young pines springing up in the corn-fields from year to year are to me a refreshing fact.

Henry David Thoreau

#22. And maybe you can't know me now.
Maybe I'm just blood. Whatever that's for.

Alice Notley

#23. Like a stand of lodgepole pines in a gale Raisa's followers all went down leaving her standing alone ... There's no shelter for me not from any of this. I'll stand alone the rest of my life. THE GRAY WOLF THRONE p. 163

Cinda Williams Chima

#24. In college there is no time to commune with one's thoughts. One goes to college to learn, it seems, not to think. When one enters the portals of learning, one leaves the dearest pleasures - solitude, books and imagination - outside with the whispering pines. I

Helen Keller

#25. ten years of whorehouse joy I'm alone now in the mountains the pines are like a jail the wind scratches my skin Ikky

Stephen Berg

#26. The hill pines were sighing,
O'ercast and chill was the day;
A mist in the valley lying
Blotted the pleasant May.

Robert Bridges

#27. Mineral cactai, quicksilver lizards in the adobe walls, the bird that punctures space, thirst, tedium, clouds of dust, impalpable epiphanies of wind. The pines taught me to talk to myself. In that garden I learnedto send myself off. Later there were no gardens.

Octavio Paz

#28. The stunted pines elude capture
in a thousand sidetracked increments.
The wind will never understand them.
Like us it is forced to go on.

Richard Meier

#29. we might as well be afloat as earthbound, the heave and fall beneath me the rise of planking, and the sound of the pines the wind in our sails.

Diana Gabaldon

#30. Feeling awful is physiological you say.
God I hate you, I say. Yes you can find the neurons for feeling awful. Do you think you can find the neurons for the fact I hate you?

Alice Notley

#31. 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

#32. He that pines with hunger, is in little care how others shall be fed. The poor man is seldom studious to make his grandson rich.

Samuel Johnson

#33. I had gone far in search of the sun, and the sun, found at last, was hostile to me. And if I were to fling myself off a cliff? While I was making such rather grim speculations, considering these pines, these rocks, these waves, I suddenly felt how bound I was to this lovely, accursed universe.

Emil M. Cioran

#34. I knew you were in charge of me but my mind broke on its own.

Alice Notley

#35. I'd seen
their hoofprints in the deep
needles and knew
they ended the long night
under the pines ...
I was thinking:
so this is how you swim inward,
so this is how you flow outward,
so this is how you pray.
(from poem, "Five A.M. in the Pinewoods")

Mary Oliver

#36. It also meant mornings of glory such as this one, in which the snow, white almost to blueness, lay like a soft comforter over the hills, and birches and pines indestructibly held their ground, rigid lines against the snow and sky, very thin and very strong like Vermonters.

John Knowles

#37. There is no scent in it so wholesome as that of the pines, nor any fragrance so penetrating and restorative as the life-everlasting in high pastures.

Henry David Thoreau

#38. The sound of dogs howling from the next homestead over. But the space between our houses grows while I sleep. The forest around me deepens. The trees fall in love and multiply. The snow an intoxicant. I pray the pines don't get bolder, that they don't grow organs and hands.

Stuart Dybek

#39. YESTERDAY IS HISTORY. TOMORROW IS A MYSTERY. TODAY IS A GIFT. THAT'S WHY IT'S CALLED THE PRESENT. WORK HARD, BE HAPPY, AND ENJOY YOUR LIFE IN WAYWARD PINES!

Blake Crouch

#40. Gabri and Myrna were very rich indeed, rich in the things that matter. In friendships and laughter, in kindness and company. People rich in money might belong at the Inn and Spa, but those rich in other ways belonged in the tiny village of Three Pines. Here, kindness was the real currency.

Louise Penny

#41. On these sands and in the clefts of the rocks, in the depths of the sea, in the creaking of the pines, you'll spy secret footprints and catch far-off voices from the homecoming celebration. This land still longs for Odysseus.

Homer

#42. His cell phone didn't work in Three Pines, and neither did email. He almost expected to see messages fluttering back and forth in the sky above the village, unable to descend.

Louise Penny

#43. It's all like me; and any song for this would just be bullshit. This is a thing, where they stopped trying, they deserted it, and desertion itself is the only possible song.

Alice Notley

#44. I couldn't sew on a day like this. There's something in the air that gets in the blood and makes a sort of glory in my soul. My fingers would twitch and I'd sew a crooked seam. So it's ho for the park and the pines.

L.M. Montgomery

#45. Woody Pines is the best band I ever heard in my life I swear. I'm their biggest fan now!

Billy Joe Shaver

#46. Pnin slowly walked under solemn pines. The sky was dying. He did not believe in an autocratic God. He did believe, dimly, in a democracy of ghosts. The souls of the dead, perhaps, formed committees, and these, in continuous session, attended the destinies of the quick.

Vladimir Nabokov

#47. I feel drawn to little temples on lonely hilltops. With the mist swirling round them, and the wind humming in the stunted pines, they absorb some of the magic and mystery of their surroundings and transmit it to the questing pilgrim.

Ruskin Bond

#48. I take a sun bath and listen to the hours, formulating, and disintegrating under the pines, and smell the resiny hardihood of the high noon hours. The world is lost in a blue haze of distances, and the immediate sleeps in a thin and finite sun.

Zelda Fitzgerald

#49. Like the great white pines whose roots grow shallow under the forest floor, they are the first to fall in a storm; so is society whose family values are built on a shallow foundation, are the first to crumble at the first sign of trouble.

Jean Charest

#50. The barking hounds ran in and out of the creek, making slapping waves, turning the Georgia earth to mud under the longleaf pines. With the dogs at play, they were, for a lovely short time, naive boys on a glorious summer's day, lost in clamorous youth.

Jo-Ann Costa

#51. Pines and spruces can't be sheared like yew or hemlock, but they are stately in large landscapes, where their eventual size is a plus. (But they are a nightmare in small yards, where their eventual size is like having a brontosaurus nesting in the front yard.)

Cassandra Danz

#52. The awesome silence of the place crept up on her. The spruce and pines, all still laden with snow, spread their limbs in a frozen ballet, breathing a ghostly incense from dark, arid chapels sheltered by their branches.

Graham Joyce

#53. 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

#54. Think of all the mesquite in Texas, the pinyon pines, the acorns in Appalachia, every place has the possibility of mass production. It's an infrastructural system so nestled in ecology, it's a more beautiful ecology.

Joel Salatin

#55. The world was so beautiful in those days, Annika. The music, the flowers, the scent of pines ... "
"It still is," said Annika. "Honestly, it still is.

Eva Ibbotson