The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

But great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.

But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.

If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful.

The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?

There cannot be found in the animal kingdom a bat, or any other creature, so blind in its own range of circumstance and connection, as the greater majority of human beings are in the bosoms of their families.

When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.

On the king's gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They call'd him dead; And made his eldest son, one day, Slave in his father's stead.

O month when they who love must love and wed.

Great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.

As soon as I began, it seemed impossible to write fast enough - I wrote faster than I would write a letter - two thousand to three thousand words in a morning, and I cannot help it.

Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy.

When the baby dies, On every side Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud. The baby was not wrapped in any shroud. The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed That men's eyes might not see Her misery.

Love has a tide!

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.

When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget.

Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.

I shall be found with 'Indians' engraved on my brain when I am dead. A fire has been kindled within me, which will never go out.

If I could write a story that would do for the Indian one-hundredth part what 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' did for the Negro, I would be thankful the rest of my life.

The goldenrod is yellow The corn is turning brown The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

O suns and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather.

Votes are like trees, if you are trying to build a forest. If you have more trees than you have forests, then at that point the pollsters will probably say you will win.

I knew, of course, that trees and plants had roots, stems, bark, branches and foliage that reached up toward the light. But I was coming to realize that the real magician was light itself.

Spring beckons! All things to the call respond; the trees are leaving and cashiers abscond.

Do not be very upright in your dealings for you would see by going to the forest that straight trees are cut down while crooked ones are left standing.

In the long winter evenings he talked to Ma about the Western country. In the West the land was level, and there were no trees. The grass grew thick and high.

If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.

Trees Lounge is based on my own life. Both my parents like the movie. My father, of course, thinks it's a masterpiece.

In Kenya you've got the great birds and monkeys leaping through the trees overhead. It's a chance to remember what the world is really like.

The script was always the most important thing to me and I loved the script. For one thing, I've always admired trees. I just worship them. Think what trees have witnessed, what history, such as living through the Civil War, yet they still survive.

The difficulty with this conversation is that it's very different from most of the ones I've had of late. Which, as I explained, have mostly been with trees.

If you think in terms of a year, plant a seed; if in terms of ten years, plant trees; if in terms of 100 years, teach the people.

Your soul is a dark forest. But the trees are of a particular species, they are genealogical trees.

Trees are your best antiques.

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.

The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

Trees are Earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven.

The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly... music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees.

The tallest Trees are most in the Power of the Winds, and Ambitious Men of the Blasts of Fortune.

The Druids held the trees as very sacred.

Parts like Morse don't grow on trees. He's a great character.

Recognition of this kinship with the rest of the universe is necessary for understanding him, but his essential nature is defined by qualities found nowhere else, not by those he has in common with apes, fishes, trees, fire, or anything other than himself.

Legislatures represent people, not acres or trees.

Trees go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!

Like water which can clearly mirror the sky and the trees only so long as its surface is undisturbed, the mind can only reflect the true image of the Self when it is tranquil and wholly relaxed.