607 Quotes About Trees

To SycamoresI’m sick of Love; O let me lieUnder your shades, to sleep or die!Either is welcome; so I haveOr here my Bed, or here my Grave.Why do you sigh, and sob, and keepTime with the tears, that I do weep?Say, have ye sence, or do you proveWhat Crucifixions are in Love?I know ye do; and that’s the why,You sigh for Love, as well as I

That long sigh again, above us. This time I saw it, moving through the branches. Like the trees were listening; like they would've been sad about us, sad for us, only they'd heard it all so many thousand times before.

Rivers don’t drink their own waters; trees don’t eat their own fruits. The salt seasons the soup in order to have its purpose fulfilled. Live for others!

Don't show your inferiority by climbing a stunted tree, show your superiority by climbing the longest and crooked one.

Silence can always be broken by the sound
Of footsteps walking over frozen groundIn winter when the melancholy treesStand abject and let their branches freeze


Winkler's breath plumed up onto his glasses. The entire valley was enveloped in a huge, illuminated stillness. Above him the clouds had pulled away and the sky burned with stars. The meadow smoldered with light, and the spruce had become illuminated kingdoms, snow sifting from branch to branch. He thought: This has been here every winter all my life.

All around him the branches of the trees had frozen solid, reaching out white fingers of glass that looked as if they would shatter in any breeze, or chime like musical bells. The world looked strangely magical.

On increasingly warm nice days I liked to sit toward noon on the bench encircling the cherry tree and look at the bare trees, the freshly plowed fields, the green strips of winter planting, the meadows that were already sprouting, and through the fragrance which swells out of the ground with the advent of spring contemplate the mountains, gleaming with the colossal quantities of snow still on them.

It was very sad under the trees. Although spring was well advanced, in the deep shade there was nothing but death-rotten leaves, gray and white fungi, and over everything a funeral hush.