Red Tree Quotes

#1. There is an implicit recognition here that important things in life are not always immediately visible, and can't always be named, or even fully understood. Others still are entirely imaginary
like a red tree growing suddenly in a room
although this does not make them any less real.

Shaun Tan

#2. If you see a red tree, paint it bright red.

Paul Cezanne

#3. Forget about the 10,000-hour rule you've heard so much about. It's a red herring. What's important is not the hours you've practiced, but the kind of practice in your hours. Focus on the tree, not the forest.

Jonathan Harnum

#4. And that was all of it. The machine stretched out in an endless, dizzying series of loops and whirls and weird mechanisms, sprouting wires like tree
roots. It didn't look real to her. Neither did Myrnin, as he turned to her with a barely concealed red glow in his eyes.

Rachel Caine

#5. He's got one leg hooked up over Lindsay's shoulder, one braced against the dashboard. He's still got his socks on, red with a little Christmas tree on each ankle. Well sexy.

Richard Rider

#6. There are things in the wood, things you wouldn't expect. There's a laugh behind a tree when nobody's around to make it. A flash of red from branch to branch, like a spark from a fire, but nothing's burning.

Rebecca Hahn

#7. Oh to be free of myself, With nothing left to remember, To have my heart as bare As a tree in December; Resting, as a tree rests After its leaves are gone, Waiting no more for a rain at night Nor for the red at dawn.

Sara Teasdale

#8. It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it's more like a song on a policeman's radio, how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces.

Richard Siken

#9. Wisdom can see the red, the rose, the stained and sculptured curve of grey, the charcoal scars of fire, and see around that living tower of tree the hermit tatters of old bark split down and strip to end the season; and can be quiet and not look for reasons past the edge of reason.

Judith Wright

#10. The tree burst into color and we all gasped at the red, yellow, green, white and the blue lights boldly growing in the cold night, the only lights for miles around in the inmense darkness of the range.

Jeannette Walls

#11. Upon the hearth the fire is red, Beneath the roof there is a bed; But not yet weary are our feet, Still round the corner we may meet A sudden tree or standing stone That none have seen but we alone. Tree and flower and leaf and grass, Let them pass! Let them pass!

J.R.R. Tolkien

#12. Fair maid, white and red,
Comb me smooth, and stroke my head;
And every hair a sheave shall be,
And every sheave a golden tree.

George Peele

#13. I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
The violets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs, where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburmum on his birthday,-
The tree is living yet.

Thomas Hood

#14. Western Red Cedar bark and cones are distinct. The foliage is not coniferous ... the tree has flat intricate fronds that branch out like lace. It droops down, hanging fingers from each branch. In certain lights, it looks like a tree made of ferns.

Ned Hayes

#15. He always was someone. Because the core of the sweet gum tree never changes. Like Nick, the deep red wood stays true to its nature. Strong, and steady, and pure.

Katherine Allred

#16. Sweeney took a step closer to Wednesday. "Call me a freeloader, will you, you doomed old creature? You cold-blooded, heartless old tree-hanger." His face was turning a deep, angry red.

Wednesday put out his hands, palms up, pacific. "Foolishness, Sweeney. Watch where you put your words.

Neil Gaiman

#17. They will come back, come back again,
As long as the red earth rolls.
He never wasted a leaf or a tree.
Do you think he would squander souls?

Rudyard Kipling

#18. The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer's ending, a sad monotonous song. "Summer is over and gone, over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying." A little maple tree heard the cricket song and turned bright red with anxiety.

E.B. White

#19. Christmas music fills our ears with tales of a Palestinian miracle birth, a generous Turkish saint whom the Dutch dressed in a red suit, and a Druid ceremonial tree ... I

Barbara Kingsolver

#20. The seeds of a redwood are released from cones that are about the size of olives. The heartwood of the tree is a dark, shimmery red in color, like old claret. The wood has a lemony scent and is extremely resistant to rot.

Richard Preston

#21. Even with her failing vision, Violet West could see the scars. They had turned purple, almost red, from the icy cold, the color of the pears on the tree in the yard, the color of blood that can't be washed away and of things that can never be undone.

Alice Hoffman

#22. The air is precious to the red man, for all things share the same breath-the beast, the tree, the man, they all share the same breath. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the stench.

Chief Seattle

#23. The big white house glowed on the hill above them, tranquil in the afternoon light, the big red spruce behind it a looming but benign presence; not for the first time, he felt that the tree was somehow guarding the house - and in his present fragile mental state, found that notion a comfort.

Diana Gabaldon

#24. How do you see those tree? ... They are yellow. Well then put down yellow. And that shadow is rather blue. So render it with pure ultramarine. Those red leaves? Use vermillion.

Paul Gauguin

#25. Sent as a present from Annam
A red cockatoo.
Coloured like the peach-tree blossom,
Speaking with the speech of men.
And they did to it what is always done
To the learned and eloquent.
They took a cage with stout bars
And shut it up inside.

Bai Juyi

#26. While all the universe and my family are still sleeping, I will walk among the red and blue twinkle-lights of the living room, to sit and gaze upon the pretty white angel atop the tree and say silent prayers, remembering what was good in the world and why I was brought here to remember.

Carew Papritz

#27. Only when the last tree has been cut down and the last river has dried up will man realise that reciting red indian proverbs makes you sound like a fucking muppet.

Banksy

#28. In Burgundy and in the cities of the South the tree of Liberty was planted. That is to say, a pole topped by the revolutionary red bonnet.

Victor Hugo

#29. It was evening and would be when I woke. No matter. From the maple tree the Red-tail spoke.

Cameron Conaway

#30. The real Julian Wells didn't die in a cherry-red convertible, overdosing on a highway in Joshua Tree while a choir soared over the sound track.

Bret Easton Ellis

#31. The proprietor had hair so red that pigmentation had flowed out into every visible inch of his skin and even into the pinks of his eyes, as the colour of flowering cherry trees stains their leaves.

Quentin Crisp

#32. As the campfire burned to an ashy bowl of red-hot embers, the boys would ramble on, piling up horror upon horror, like cordwood stacked under a blood-red-barked madrona tree.

Gregg Olsen

#33. A sweet gum tree is the chameleon of wood, it's corky exterior hiding it's inner ability to imitate anything from cherry to mahogany. But it's real value, one unrealized by most people, is it's deep red heart, steady and strong.

Katherine Allred

#34. I imagine pushing you into the red abyss and jumping in after you, with you, so we can burn together, forever, a tree of life, light, sex.

Caroline Kepnes

#35. As soon as I turned the key I saw it hanging, the color of fire and sunset. the colour of flamboyant flowers. 'If you are buried under a flamboyant tree, ' I said, 'your soul is lifted up when it flowers. Everyone wants that.'

She shook her head but she did not move or touch me.

Jean Rhys

#36. O land and soil, red soil and sweet-gum tree,
So scant of grass, so profligate of pines

Jean Toomer

#37. That's the way I do things when I want to celebrate, I always plant a tree. And so I got an indigenous tree, called Nandi flame, it has this beautiful red flowers. When it is in flower it is like it is in flame.

Wangari Maathai

#38. We were of thirteen minds, like a tree, in which there is one Red-tail and eleven squirrel parts.

Cameron Conaway

#39. On Christmas Eve, we have a duck or roast pork with caramelised potatoes, braised red cabbage and gravy. For dessert, we have ris a l'amande, a rice pudding, and whoever gets the whole almond in it wins an extra present. Then we dance around the tree and sing carols.

Birgitte Hjort Sorensen

#40. All Daenerys wanted back was the big house with the red door, the lemon tree outside her window, the childhood she had never known.

George R R Martin