A Quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll.
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Sit, then, as if you were a mountain, with all the unshakeable, steadfast majesty of a mountain. A mountain is completely natural and at ease with itself, however strong the winds that try to bother it, however thick the dark clouds that swirl around its peak. Sitting like a mountain, let your mind rise and fly and soar
Since I retired to Cold Mountain I've lived by eating mountain fruits What is there to worry about? Life passes according to karma The months pass like a flowing stream Days and nights like sparks from flint Heaven and earth endlessly change While I sit happily among these cliffs
I bicycle 12,000-foot mountain passes, run, cross train, skate-ski, hike and mountain bike.
I have my mountain man moments like hiking in the woods.
I see the crowd singing 'Rock 'N Roll' or 'Back Road' at my concerts... they are anthems and they lift up your life.
All I can say is that you only realize how big your mountain is once you're laying motionless, helpless, and hopeless in the valley below. No one goes there on purpose, if you get what I'm saying, because the only way to find your personal low is to slip and roll down that mountain of yours, straight through to the bottom, no holds barred.
All I can say is that you only realize how big your mountain is once youre laying motionless, helpless, and hopeless in the valley below. No one goes there on purpose, if you get what Im saying, because the only way to find your personal low is to slip and roll down that mountain of yours, straight through to the bottom, no holds barred.
Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are-- Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.
Tiger Woods is someone I'd like to ask questions of. I'm fascinated to know about his life - everything he goes through, is he happy being Tiger Woods?
They shut the road through the woods Seventy years ago. Weather and rain have undone it again, And now you would never know There was once a road through the woods
Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.
The smoke from the fire passes through the building and the soot affixes itself to the walls. The smoke passes through the air and keeps going - liberation.
Sometimes, I would like to be alone in the woods and run and roll on the ground and play with my kids. And I do, and that's what keeps me grounded.
This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window Floundering black astride and blinding wet Till day rose; then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
Through pathless realms of Space,
Roll on!
The winds that blow through the wide sky in these mounts, the winds that sweep from Canada to Mexico, from the Pacific to the Atlantic - have always blown on free men.
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