Grove Quotes - Page 5

• Here at great expense,' [Colonel Groves] moaned to Oppenheimer, 'the government has assembled the world's largest collection of crackpots.

  Steve Sheinkin

  Military, Government, World

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• When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children.

  Thomas Merton

  Children, Autumn, Night

  Thomas Merton (2007). “New Seeds of Contemplation”, New Directions Publishing

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• Warmest climes but nurse the cruellest fangs: the tiger of Bengal crouches in spiced groves of ceaseless verdure. Skies the most effulgent but basket the deadliest thunders: gorgeous Cuba knows tornadoes that never swept tame northern lands.

  Herman Melville

  Land, Sky, Nurse

  Herman Melville (2008). “Moby-Dick”, p.555, Velvet Element Books

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• Know'st thou the land where the lemon-trees bloom, Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket's gloom, Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows, And the groves are of laurel and myrtle and rose!

  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  Blow, Blue, Wind

  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Thomas Carlyle (1824). “Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship: A Novel”, p.229

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• Meditation on a passage of scripture... led a young boy into a grove of trees to commune with his heavenly Father. That is what opened the heavens in this dispensation

  Ezra Taft Benson

  Father, Boys, Meditation

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• Most agreeable are the memories of events and labours, connected with the cruise:- of companions in travel, ... of coral islands with their groves, and beautiful life, above and below the waters, ... of lofty precipices, richly draped, even the sternest fronts made to smile and be glad, as delights the gay tropics, and alive with waterfalls, gliding, leaping, or plunging, on their way down from the giddy heights, and, as they go, playing out and in amid the foliage...

  James Dwight Dana

  Beautiful, Nature, Memories

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• Gardening is a long road, with many detours and way stations, and here we all are at one point or another. It's not a question of superior or inferior taste, merely a question of which detour we are on at the moment. Getting there (as they say) is not important; the wandering about in the wilderness or in the olive groves or in the bayous is the whole point.

  Henry Mitchell

  Journey, Hiking, Long

  Henry Mitchell (2014). “Henry Mitchell on Gardening”, p.150, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Anytime the perfume of orange and lemon groves wafts in the window; the human body has to feel suffused with a languorous well-being.

  Frances Mayes

  Orange, Fruit, Body

  Frances Mayes (1999). “Bella Tuscany: The Sweet Life in Italy”, Wheeler Pub Incorporated

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• In the groves of their academy, at the end of every vista, you see nothing but the gallows.

  Edmund Burke

  Prejudice, Ends, Gallows

  'Reflections on the Revolution in France' (1790) p. 115.

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• Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed,-render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod!

  William Wordsworth

  Eye, Men, Echoes

  William Wordsworth (1994). “The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth”, p.850, Wordsworth Editions

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• Zionists believe they are entitled by God to the land, groves and homes of the non-Jewish underclass. They quote the Bible as the reference that 'God gave them the land.' The size of the alleged God-given land has never been determined and Israel's borders still remain fuzzy.

  Lee Whitnum

  Believe, Home, Israel

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• The word unto the prophet spoken Was writ on tablets yet unbroken: The word by seers or sibyls told, In groves of oak or fanes of gold, Still floats upon the morning wind, Still whispers to the willing mind.

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Morning, Wind, Mind

  Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The Problem”

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• The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them,--ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.

  William C. Bryant

  Men, Silence, Sound

  William Cullen Bryant, “A Forest Hymn”

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• No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar.

  William Cowper

  Tree, Peculiar, Hue

  William Cowper, Robert Southey, William Harvey (1835). “The Works of William Cowper, Comprising His Poems, Correspondence, and Translations”, p.233

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• I would recommend if you come to Ocean Grove and you're not from around here, don't wear rubber pants, a pink shirt and a blue jacket. Leave that for Asbury Park.

  Peter Noone

  Ocean, Blue, Rubber

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• Fragrant o'er all the western groves The tall magnolia towers unshaded.

  Maria Gowen Brooks

  Towers, Magnolias, Western

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• A grove of giant redwood or sequoias should be kept just as we keep a great and beautiful cathedral.

  Theodore Roosevelt

  Beautiful, Tree, Giants

  Theodore Roosevelt (2010). “The Green Roosevelt: Theodore Roosevelt in Appreciation of Wilderness, Wildlife, and Wild Places”, p.367, Cambria Press

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• When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash - at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the "newness," the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance.

  Thomas Merton

  Life, Children, Heart

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• Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.

  Jack Kerouac

  Sunset, Color, Purple

  Jack Kerouac (1957). “On the Road”, Viking Press

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• A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the hills and groves were God's first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself.

  John Muir

  Life, Song, Cutting

  John Muir (2011). “My First Summer in the Sierra: Illustrated Edition”, p.94, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Now the bright morning-star, Day's harbinger,
  Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
  The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
  The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
  Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
  Mirth, and youth, and warm desire!
  Woods and groves are of thy dressing;
  Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
  Thus we salute thee with our early song,
  And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

  John Milton

  Song, Morning, Stars

  John Milton (1859). “The poems of John Milton”, p.43

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• The grove is the centre of their whole religion. It is regarded as the cradle of the race and the dwelling-place of the supreme god to whom all things are subject and obedient.

  Tacitus

  Dwelling, Race, Tree

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• I grew up in a utopia, I did. California when I was a child was a child's paradise, I was healthy, well fed, well clothed, well housed. I went to school and there were libraries with all the world in them and after school I played in orange groves and in Little League and in the band and down at the beach and every day was an adventure. . . . I grew up in utopia.

  Kim Stanley Robinson

  Beach, Children, School

  Kim Stanley Robinson (2013). “Pacific Edge: Three Californias”, p.300, Orb Books

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• She has form," he said to himself, as he walked away through the grove - "that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling? I am afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is all style, without any sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that arts are selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity it is that they do not mean anything, or do any practical good.

  Oscar Wilde

  Beautiful, Art, Selfish

  Oscar Wilde, General Press (2016). “The Happy Prince and Other Stories (Illustrated Edition)”, p.17, GENERAL PRESS

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• listen to me as one listens to the rain, the years go by, the moments return, do you hear the footsteps in the next room? not here, not there: you hear them in another time that is now, listen to the footsteps of time, inventor of places with no weight, nowhere, listen to the rain running over the terrace, the night is now more night in the grove, lightning has nestled among the leaves, a restless garden adrift-go in, your shadow covers this page.

  Octavio Paz

  Running, Rain, Night

  Octavio Paz, “As One Listens To The Rain”

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