Writing is like the life of a glacier; one eternal grind.
JOHN MUIRWriting is like the life of a glacier; one eternal grind.
JOHN MUIRAt the touch of this divine light, the mountains seemed to kindle to a rapt, religious consciousness, and stood hushed like devout worshippers waiting to be blessed.
JOHN MUIRWalk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer.
JOHN MUIRGod has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fool.
JOHN MUIRAnother glorious day, the air as delicious to the lungs as nectar to the tongue.
JOHN MUIRThis time it is real – all must die, and where could mountaineer find a more glorious death!
JOHN MUIRWe are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.
JOHN MUIRBut we are governed more than we know, and most when we are wildest.
JOHN MUIRAnd into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.
JOHN MUIRThe mountains are calling and I must go.
JOHN MUIRCome to the woods, for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the green deep woods. Sleep in forgetfulness of all ill.
JOHN MUIRGoing to the mountains is going home.
JOHN MUIRLearn to live like the wild animals
JOHN MUIRAs long as I live, I’ll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing.
JOHN MUIRI never saw a discontented tree.
JOHN MUIRIn our best times everything turns into religion, all the world seems a church and the mountains altars.
JOHN MUIR