Top 76 Quotes About Boughs
#1. And the wind upon its way whispered the boughs of May, And touched the nodding peony flowers to bid them waken.
Siegfried Sassoon
#2. Think of your woods and orchards without birds!
Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams
As in an idiot's brain remembered words
Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
#3. The boughs of no two trees ever have the same arrangement. Nature always produces individuals; She never produces classes.
Lydia M. Child
#5. The rugged trees are mingling Their flowery sprays in love; The ivy climbs the laurel To clasp the boughs above.
William C. Bryant
#6. Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before
Edna St. Vincent Millay
#7. The axe of intemperance has lopped off his green boughs and left him a withered trunk.
Jonathan Swift
#8. Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.
Thomas Hood
#9. Trees that, like the poplar, lift upward all their boughs, give no shade and no shelter, whatever their height. Trees the most lovingly shelter and shade us, when, like the willow, the higher soar their summits, the lower drop their boughs.
Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton
#10. The winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows ...
John Geddes
#11. I can pass days
Stretch'd in the shade of those old cedar trees,
Watching the sunshine like a blessing fall,
The breeze like music wandering o'er the boughs,
Each tree a natural harp,
each different leaf
A different note, blent in one vast thanksgiving.
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
#12. The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying ...
Percy Bysshe Shelley
#13. The boughs, without becoming detached from the trunk grow away from it.
Victor Hugo
#14. Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a while.
W.B.Yeats
#15. You stand beneath the arthritic boughs of any English oak, and you survey a thousand tales.
Jim Crace
#16. Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing, under the sky's gray arch. Smiling, I watch the shaken elm boughs, knowing It is the wind of March.
John Greenleaf Whittier
#17. Sprigs of plum by the corner of the wall
Are blooming alone in the cold;
If not for the subtle fragrance drifting over
Who could tell this from snow on the boughs.
Wang Anshi
#18. By lunchtime the valley was lightly coated, like a cake with confectioner's sugar ... there was white fur on the antlers of the iron deer and on the melancholy boughs of the Norway spruce.
Elizabeth Enright
#19. That precious fruit which all men eagerly go searching for on many different boughs will give,today, peace to your hungry soul.
Dante Alighieri
#20. The thought burrowed into her heart as darkness fell. It coiled in her guts as she wedged herself amongst the boughs of a tree to sleep. And in the morning, it woke with her and clung to her back, riding on her shoulders as she climbed down, hungry and exhausted from nightmares.
Paolo Bacigalupi
#21. The street lamps glowed like ripe oranges among the bare boughs. Below in the wet street their globes glimmered down and down, to drown in their own reflections.
Mary Stewart
#22. Give me a land of boughs in leaf
A land of trees that stand;
Where trees are fallen there is grief;
I love no leafless land.
A.E. Housman
#23. Come near, that no more blinded by man's fate,
I find under the boughs of love and hate,
In all poor foolish things that live a day,
Eternal beauty wandering on her way.
W.B.Yeats
#24. Be like the bird who, pausing in her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing she hath wings.
Victor Hugo
#25. In Winter the bare boughs that seem to sleep Work covertly, preparing for their Spring.
Rumi
#26. Most writers sow adjectives almost unconsciously into the soil of their prose to make it more lush and pretty. The sentences become longer and longer as they fill up with stately elms and graceful boughs and frisky kittens and sleepy lagoons.
William Zinsser
#27. The sunlight sparkled through the wind-bent boughs of trees, dancing in an ever-shifting pattern
S.D. Smith
#28. Drew had never before shot like he did that day, nor has he since. It was something to see. The contest had just begun when he walked up, aimed, and felled a cluster from the very top of the boughs.
Deeanne Gist
#29. In the corridors under tehre is nothing but sleep. And stiller than ever on orchard boughs they keep Tryst with the moon, and deep is the silence, deep On moon-washed apples of wonder.
John Drinkwater
#30. To such an extent does nature delight and abound in variety that among her trees there is not one plant to be found which is exactly like another; and not only among the plants, but among the boughs, the leaves and the fruits, you will not find one which is exactly similar to another.
Leonardo Da Vinci
#32. Dead calm, then a murmur, a name, a murmured name, in doubt, in fear, in love, in fear, in doubt, wind of winter in the black boughs, cold calm sea whitening whispering to the shore, stealing, hastening, swelling, passing, dying, from naught come, to naught gone
Samuel Beckett
#34. Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear, Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.
William Allingham
#36. Imagination is a tree. It has the integrative virtues of a tree. It is root and boughs. It lives between earth and sky. It lives in the earth and the wind. The imagined tree imperceptibly becomes a cosmological tree, the tree which epitomises a universe, which makes a universe.
Gaston Bachelard
#37. I felt overstuffed and dull and disappointed, the way I always do the day after Christmas, as if whatever it was the pine boughs and the candles and the silver and gilt-ribboned presents and the birch-log fires and the Christmas turkey and the carols at the piano promised never came to pass.
Sylvia Plath
#38. A traitor is good fruit to hang from the boughs of the tree of liberty.
Henry Ward Beecher
#39. Boughs have their fruit and blossom
At all times of the year;
Rivers are running over
With red beer and brown beer.
William Butler Yeats
#40. In a forest of stars and boughs, here is your face. In the garden, in the shipwreck, in sacred stones, in figs and roses. Through long nights of walking, what does not sing for us?
Anne Michaels
#41. I wash off the night in the water, my scrapes and aches numbed by the sea. My bones have become boughs, all scarred knees and gnarled kuckles. None of us are the same person we once were, since the human body replaces itself every seven years; there have been at least six different mes.
Philip Hoare
#42. The melancholy river bears us on. When the moon comes through the trailing willow boughs, I see your face, I hear your voice and the bird singing as we pass the osier bed. What are you whispering? Sorrow, sorrow. Joy, joy. Woven together, like reeds in moonlight.
Virginia Woolf
#43. Oh, to be home again, home again, home again! Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill!
James Thomas Fields
#44. Where have I
been while this person is leading my life
with her patience, will and order? In the garden;
on the bee and under the bee; in the
crown gathering cumulus and
flensing it from the boughs
Sharon Olds
#45. A bird in the boughs sang "June,"
And "June" hummed a bee
In a Bacchic glee
As he tumbled over and over
Drunk with the honey-dew.
Clinton Scollard
#46. But even the moment when the leaves fall from their boughs - even that moment - has a beauty to it. A glory of its own.
Renee Ahdieh
#47. The nurses did their best to spruce up the antiseptic corridors but the smell of pine boughs was overpowered by Pine Sol and no one paused beneath the mistletoe on the contagious ward.
Robert Zverina
#48. The partitions of knowledge are not like several lines that meet in one angle, and so touch not in a point; but are like branches of a tree, that meet in a stem, which hath a dimension and quantity of entireness and continuance, before it come to discontinue and break itself into arms and boughs.
Francis Bacon
#49. Dawn crept over the Downs like a sinister white animal, followed by the snarling cries of a wind eating its way between the black boughs of the thorns. The wind was the furious voice of this sluggish animal light that was baring the dormers and mullions and scullions of Cold Comfort Farm.
Stella Gibbons
#50. When the sappy boughs Attire themselves with blooms, sweet rudiments Of future harvest.
John Phillips
#51. I love looking at you, hundred-year-old tree, loaded with shoots and boughs as though you were a stripling. Teach me the secret of growing old like you, open to life, to youth, to dreams, as somebody aware that youth and age are merely steps towards eternity.
Helder Camara
#52. A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk, and trembled through the boughs of the chestnut: it wandered away-away-to an indefinite distance-it died. The nightingale's song was then the only voice of the hour: in listening to it, I again wept.
Charlotte Bronte
#53. A tree nowhere offers a straight line or a regular curve, but who doubts that root, trunk, boughs, and leaves embody geometry?
George Iles
#54. Is it where the flow'r of the orange blows, And the fireflies dance thro' the myrtle boughs?
Felicia Hemans
#55. The traveller knows not who may be concealed by the innumerable trunks and the thick boughs overhead; so that with lonely footsteps he may yet be passing through an unseen multitude.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
#56. One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow
Wallace Stevens
#57. Like the curved pipe of a fountain, your arching boughs
drive the sap
downward and up again: and almost without awakening
it bursts out of sleep, into its sweetest achievement.
Like the god stepping into the swan.
Rainer Maria Rilke
#58. Such phantom blossoms palely shining
Over the lifeless boughs of Time.
Edgar Lee Masters
#59. Yes, I could see these enormous elephants, whose trunks were tearing down large boughs, and working in and out the trees like a legion of serpents. I could hear the sounds of the mighty tusks uprooting huge trees!
Jules Verne
#60. She and Jack had formed her of snow and birch boughs and frosty wild grass.
Eowyn Ivey
#61. Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it.
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
#62. The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
Edmund Waller
#63. Canst thou prophesy, thou little tree, What the glory of thy boughs shall be?
Lucy Larcom
#64. Cedars are terribly sensitive to change of time and light - sometimes they are bluish cold-green, then they turn yellow warm-green - sometimes their boughs flop heavy and sometimes float, then they are fairy as ferns and then they droop, heavy as heartaches.
Emily Carr
#65. Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.
William Shakespeare
#66. Be like the bird that, passing on her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing that she hath wings.
Victor Hugo
#67. On the holy boughs of the Celestial Tree High up in the heavenly fields, Beyond terrestrial desire My soul-bird a warm nest has built.
Hafez
#69. Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing
in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs" 'I'm so glad I live in
a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we
just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it?
L.M. Montgomery
#70. Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.
Andrew Marvell
#71. What e'er you are
That in this desert inaccessible,
Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time.
William Shakespeare
#72. Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are
Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.
Walter De La Mare
#73. Sleep lingers all our lifetime about our eyes, as night hovers all day in the boughs of the fir tree.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
#74. A drawing, brought by Colonel Coombs, from a sculptured column in a cave-temple in the South of India, represents the first pair at the foot of the ambrosial tree, and a serpent entwined among the heavily-laden boughs, presenting to them some of the fruit from his mouth.
Godfrey Higgins
#75. The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.
William C. Bryant
#76. Green how I love you green. Green wind. Green boughs. The ship on the sea And the horse on the mountain.
Federico Garcia Lorca
