Tree Quotes - Page 48

Plant a memory, plant a tree, do it today for tomorrow.

The tears that kept Buttercup company the remainder of the day were not at all like those that had blinded her into the tree trunk. Those were noisy and hot; they pulsed. These were silent and steady and all they did was remind her that she wasn’t good enough. She was seventeen, and every male she’d ever known had crumbled at her feet and it meant nothing. The one time it really mattered, she wasn’t good enough.

Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.

Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze.

The fame which bids fair to live the longest resembles that which Horace attributes to Marcellus, whose progress he compares to the silent, imperceptible growth of a tree.

Today I stood taller from walking among the trees.

Our tree became the talking tree of the fairy tale; legends and stories nestled like birds in its branches.

If the world knew what I was doing, they would hang me from the highest tree.

He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit, He that leaps the wide gulf should prevail in his suit.

But words have been used too often; touched and turned, and left exposed to the dust of the street. The words we seek hang close to the tree. We come at dawn and find them sweet beneath the leaf.

"Make your plate look like a Christmas tree," I tell people, "mostly green with splashes of other bright colors."

The Christmas tree is a symbol of love, not money. There's a kind of glory to them when they're all lit up that exceeds anything all the money in the world could buy.

My family tree consists of drug dealers, thugs, and killers.

In Downing Street they called me 'Boss'. Civil servants would always call me 'Prime Minister'.

A suffering world cries for mercy, as far as the eye can see. Lawyers around every bend in the road, lawyers in every tree.

Behind every tree there's a new monster.

Jesus took the tree of death so you could have the tree of life.

For freemen like brothers agree; With one spirit endured, they one friendship pursued, And their temple was Liberty Tree

Now is the seedtime of continental union, faith and honor. The least fracture now, will be like a name engraved with the point of a pin on the tender rind of a young oak; the wound would enlarge with the tree, and posterity read in it full grown characters.

It was the month of May, the month when the foliage of herbs and trees is most freshly green, when buds ripened and blossoms appear in their fragrance and loveliness. And the month when lovers, subject to the same force which reawakens the plants, feel their hearts open again, recall past trysts and past vows, and moments of tenderness, and yearn for a renewal of the magical awareness which is love.

I feel like if I ever got into some sort of rumble on the street, I will actually be able to defend myself.

My roots are African. The birds I remember, the fruits I ate, the trees I climbed, they're African.

Now the seasons are closing their files on each of us, the heavy drawers full of certificates rolling back into the tree trunks, a few old papers flocking away. Someone we loved has fallen from our thoughts, making a little, glittering splash like a bicycle pushed by a breeze. Otherwise, not much has happened; we fell in love again, finding that one red feather on the wind.

Compared with me, a tree is immortal.

Every ripple on the ocean, every leaf on every tree, every sand dune in the desert, every power we never see.