“I ran home in the moonlight with firm strides; for the sun-love made me strong.”

Night is coming on and I am filled with indescribable loneliness. Felt feverish; bathed in a black, silent stream.

The power of imagination makes us infinite.

Going to the mountains is going home.

The deeper the solitude the less the sense of loneliness, and the nearer our friends.

It is always interesting to see people in dead earnest, from whatever cause, and earthquakes make everybody earnest.

We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.

I never saw a discontented tree.

One day’s exposure to mountains is better than a cartload of books.

So also there are tides and floods in the affairs of men, which in some are slight and may be kept within bounds, but in others they overmaster everything.

The soft light of morning falls upon ripening forests of oak and elm, walnut and hickory, and all Nature is thoughtful and calm.

It seems supernatural, but only because it is not understood.

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.

Avoid people who drain your positivity and dim your light.

I found my words when I left you. Maybe the dark was worth the light.

I started to see shadows everywhere the light fell, I guess i hoped one of them would be yours waiting to share the light with me.

She was fearless, she loved her darkness and basked in her light.

Know that in your darkness, there is light beaming beneath the door. Giving you hope for what’s on the other side.

When the lights are out, and the electricity no longer pulses through our veins from the support of some technology, what will we be?

In every storm you were the lighthouse, the direction in which to swim. so i grew strong a good swimmer and made it to your rocky shores.

Be like the wind. Light and free.