How can a deer tell when a leaf falls silent in the forest? She hears it breathing differently.
A wounded deer leaps the highest.
From all kinds of flowers, Seek teachings everywhere, Like a deer that finds A quiet place to graze, Seek Seclusion to digest All you have gathered. . .
Swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Quick as a snake. Calm as still water.
Everything pales in comparison to deer.
I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it's such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I have photographs of her.
A deer that knows all the hunting techniques of a lion will never fall prey to a lion!
I felt like a deer with a hundred hunters after me.
We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumes flowers are our sisters; the deer, the horse, the great eagle: these are our brothers. All things are connected like the blood which unites one's family.
They run like deer, jump like deer and think like deer.
I don't have to take a trip around the world or be on a yacht in the Mediterranean to have happiness. I can find it in the little things, like looking out into my backyard and seeing deer in the fields.
You shouldn't have to settle for rabbits if what you want is deer
My heart 's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart 's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.
The man who hunts a deer does not gaze at the mountains.
My feet will tread soft as a deer in the forest. My mind will be clear as water from the sacred well. My heart will be strong as a great oak. My spirit will spread an eagle's wings, and fly forth.
Deerstalking would be a very fine sport if only the deer had guns.
The fabled musk deer searches the world over for the source of the scent which comes from itself.
The life of the wood, meadow, and lake go on without us. Flowers bloom, set seed and die back; squirrels hide nuts in the fall and scold all year long; bobcats track the snowy lake in winter; deer browse the willow shoots in spring. Humans are but intruders who have presumed the right to be observers, and who, out of observation, find understanding.
God made us walking animals - pedestrians. As a fish needs to swim, a bird to fly, a deer to run, we need to walk, not in order to survive, but to be happy.
Now and then we hear the wilder voices of the wilderness, from animals that in the hours of darkness do not fear the neighborhood of man: the coyotes wail like dismal ventriloquists, or the silence may be broken by the snorting and stamping of a deer.
An absolute patience. Trees stand up to their knees in fog. The fog slowly flows uphill. White cobwebs, the grass leaning where deer have looked for apples. The woods from brook to where the top of the hill looks over the fog, send up not one bird. So absolute, it is no other than happiness itself, a breathing too quiet to hear.
A pine needle fell in the forest. The hawk saw it. The deer heard it. The white bear smelled it
An army of lions commanded by a deer will never be an army of lions.
You have to think about one shot. One shot is what it's all about. A deer's gotta be taken with one shot.
She told them simply and directly that the meadow was a place of peace and beauty, where indeed if one came to it in a quiet manner, the animals would not be disturbed; for there are lovely birds, and squirrels and field mice, and sometimes deer.
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