“The world’s big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.”

We all travel the Milky Way together, trees and men.

As if nothing that does not obviously make for the benefit of man had any right to exist; as if our ways were God’s ways.

The wrongs done to trees, wrongs of every sort, are done in the darkness of ignorance and unbelief, for when the light comes, the heart of the people is always right.

This time it is real – all must die, and where could mountaineer find a more glorious death!

To the lover of wilderness, Alaska is one of the most wonderful countries in the world.

Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.

In God’s wildness lies the hope of the world.

Everybody needs beauty, places to play in and pray in where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to the body and soul alike.

Writing is like the life of a glacier; one eternal grind.

Yet how hard most people work for mere dust and ashes and care, taking no thought of growing in knowledge and grace, never having time to get in sight of their own ignorance.

Everything in Nature called destruction must be creation-a change from beauty to beauty.

In our best times everything turns into religion, all the world seems a church and the mountains altars.

Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity

I am learning to live close to the lives of my friends without ever seeing them. No miles of any measurement can separate your soul from mine.

Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings.

The rivers flow not past, but through us, thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing.

It’s so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.

Let me light my lamp , says the star, And never debate if it will help to remove the darkness

I watch how the moon sits in the sky in the dark night, shining with the light from the sun, and the sun doesn’t give light to the moon assuming, the moon’s gonna owe it one.

Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past, bringing back these memories I wish I didn’t have.

Can you see anything in the dark, with your sunglasses on? she asked me. The big show is inside my head, I said.

Weak mortals, chained to the earth, creatures of clay as frail as the foliage of the woods, you unfortunate race, whose life is but darkness, as unreal as a shadow, the illusion of a dream.

Everybody has a light and a dark side, and neither can exist without the other.

Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.