There is one thing sure about life: Life will push us hardly many times! When you are pushed, don't be surprised; stay firm like a plane tree or be elastic like a bamboo!
I know a parson who frightened his congregation terribly by telling them the second coming was very imminent indeed, but they were much consoled when they found he was planting trees in his garden.
Metallic trees. That's new. If you see any steel dryads, be sure to tell me so I can run away screaming.
I had rather be a Kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I had rather heare a Brazen Candlestick turn'd, Or a dry Wheele grate on the Axle-tree, And that would set my teeth nothing an edge, Nothing so much, as mincing Poetrie.
I started finding hearts in things - whether it was like, a tree I was passing, a straw wrapper on the ground; I think the heart has one continuous line, which is very powerful.
The worldly comforts are not for me. I am like a traveler, who takes rest under a tree in the shade and then goes on his way.
The flocks fear the wolf, the crops the storm, and the trees the wind.
Men who stand on any other foundation than the rock Christ Jesus are like birds that build in trees by the side of rivers. The bird sings in the branches, and the river sings below, but all the while the waters are undermining the soil about the roots, till, in some unsuspected hour, the tree falls with a crash into the stream; and then its nest is sunk, its home is gone, and the bird is a wanderer.
The code of poor laws has at length grown up into a tree, which, like the fabulous Upas, overshadows and poisons the land; unwholesome expedients were the bud, dilemmas and depravities have been the blossom, and danger and despair are the bitter fruit.
My worthy friend, gray are all theories And green alone Life's golden tree.
A choir of seedlings arching their necks out of rotted tree stumps, sucking life out of death. I am the forest's conscience, but remember, the forest eats itself and lives forever.
Emancipation from the bondage of the soil is no freedom for the tree.
Roots are nice, but a tree can’t run.
Christmas is a box of tree ornaments that have become part of the family.
When one does look up at the grand trees growing up almost to the sky, one does always have longings to pray.