Top 307 Oak Quotes & Sayings

Oak Hill is a classic golf course. There aren't a lot of tricks to it.

You knocked the door down." Disbelief rang in his matter-of-fact tone. "I know," she answered,unable to say anything else. Unable to look away from his body. "But it's solid oak." "I know." She felt the solid oak beneath her and a little shocked that she'd done it, too. If it mattered at all, her shoulder felt a little bruised. And it was the slight pain that brought some reality back into the moment. "You don't have any clothes on." Oh, God, did she really say that?

The dream in your heart may be bigger than the environment in which you find yourself. Sometimes you have to get out of that environment to see that dream fulfilled. It’s like planting an oak sapling in a pot. Once it becomes rootbound, its growth is limited. It needs a great space to become a mighty oak. So do you.

This oak tree and me, we're made of the same stuff.

An oak is no respecter of persons.

George Foreman can knock down an oak tree ... but oak trees don't move.

Storms make the oak grow deeper roots.

The winter oak... is very useful in buildings but when in a moist place it takes in water to its centre... and so it rots. The Turkey oak and the beech both... take in moisture to their centre and soon decay. White and black poplar, as well as willow, linden, and the agnus castus... are of great service from their stiffness... they are a convenient material to use in carving.

Every oak tree started out as a couple of nuts who stood their ground.

In 1846 the prairie town of Oak River existed only in a settler's dream.

Blow kisses to the oak trees and sparrows and elephants and weeds.

Our own economy tells us to take as much as we can get, right? Our own economy says, you're going to be the most successful graduate if you go into the business world and take as much you can get. That's not how nature works. Nature has a much simpler economy. Everything in nature takes what it needs. That's it. You don't see an oak tree gathering up all the resources. An oak tree takes what it needs to be the authentic oak tree it is.

The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived.

The talking oak To the ancient spoke. But any tree Will talk to me.

The tallest oak tree once was an acorn that any pig could have swallowed.

What makes the strength of the soldier isn't the energy he uses trying to intimidate the other guy by sending him a whole lot of signals, it's the strength he's able to concentrate within himself, by staying centered. That Maori player was like a tree, a great indestructible oak with deep roots and a powerful radiance- everyone could feel it. And yet you also got the impression that the great oak could fly, that it would be as quick as the wind, despite, or perhaps because of, its deep roots.

The acorn of ambition often grows into an oak from which men hang.

I wish you were that birch rising from the clump behind you, and I the gray oak alongside.

You stand beneath the arthritic boughs of any English oak, and you survey a thousand tales.

Lik the tree falling in the forest," says Ira. "Huh?" "You know, the old question - if a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it really make a sound?" Howie considers this. "Is it a pine forest, or oak?" "What's the difference?" "Oak is a much denser wood; it's more likely to be heard by someone on the freeway next to the forest where no one is.

I belong on this earth in the way that an oak tree does.

The mind has grown to its present state of consciousness as an acorn grows into an oak, or as saurians developed into mammals.

When the Lord starts out to make an oak tree, he takes a hundred years to do it in, but he can make a pumpkin in 90 days. More or less life is like that. We must choose whether we desire to become and oak tree or a pumpkin.

It takes time for an acorn to turn into an oak, but the oak is already implied in the acorn.

If an artist tells you "this is an oak tree," then it better be an oak tree. It's how you proclaim things; if you say "the silence is the music," then it's the music.

An oak tree is an oak tree. That is all it has to do. If an oak tree is less than an oak tree, then we are all in trouble.

Is the acorn better than the oak which is its fullness and completion?

Time is different for a tree than for a man. Sun and soil and water, these are the things a weirwood understands, not days and years and centuries. For men, time is a river. We are trapped in its flow, hurtling from past to present, always in the same direction. The lives of trees are different. They root and grow and die in one place, and that river does not move them. The oak is the acorn, the acorn is the oak.

"You look different now. Like a proper little girl," (said Gendry.) "I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns," (said Arya.) "Nice, though. A nice oak tree. [...] You even smell nice for a change."

You never quite know what you do in life that leaves a seed behind that grows into an oak tree.

I wonder what it means when Americans say I'm an American. In Britain the culture is basically the same from one end of the country to the other. And when I came here and I saw Americans who live, I don't know, in you know, Northwestern California as opposed to Americans who live in Louisiana, as opposed to Americans who live in the Nevada desert. English even is literally a picture that I have in my mind of an oak tree in the field, a single oak in a green field. And also when I think of my Russian roots, it's the landscape that I connect with as more than maybe the poetry or the drama.

A critic is to an author as a fungus to an oak.

Here and there on the branch of an oak a congress of leaves still clung, rigid as flakes of bronze.

The boughs of the oak are roaring inside the acorn.

Soul of fibre and heart of oak.

The little girl skipped by under the wrinkled oak leaves and held fast to a replica of herself.

You woke up on the wrong side of the oak tree, didn’t you? (Acheron)

And Seaman, just like a falling oak, manages to change direction.

You cannot plant an acorn in the morning, and expect that afternoon to sit in the shade of an oak.

Today's mighty oak is just yesterday's nut, that held its ground.

The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly branch shone on the old oak wall.

Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

It is progress when a centuries-old oak is cut down to give space for a road sign.

The oak, when living, monarch of the wood; The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.

Then here 's to the oak, the brave old oak, Who stands in his pride alone! And still flourish he a hale green tree When a hundred years are gone!

An oak and a reed were arguing about their strength. When a strong wind came up, the reed avoided being uprooted by bending and leaning with the gusts of wind. But the oak stood firm and was torn up by the roots.

The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.

Where are the rough brave Britons to be found With Hearts of Oak, so much of old renowned?

The acorn of honest inquiry has often sprouted and matured into a great oak of understanding.

Organic growth is a cyclical process; it is just as true to say that the oak is a potential acorn as it is to say the acorn is a potential oak. But the process of writing a poem, of making any art object, is not cyclical but a motion in one direction toward a definite end.

At my home in the southwest of France, I grow oak, hazel, and lemon trees in my backyard.

Without warning as a whirlwind swoops on an oak Love shakes my heart

The oak has not the efficacy of the fir, nor the cypress that of the elm.

Man is the circled oak; woman the ivy.

Love shook my heart/ Like the wind on the mountain/ Troubling the oak-trees

When we shout at the oak tree, the oak tree is not offended. When we praise the oak tree, it doesn't raise its nose. We can learn the Dharma from the oak tree; therefore, the oak tree is part of our Dharmakaya. We can learn from everything that is around, that is in us.

Beauty is not all there is of poetry. It must contain the truth. It is not simply an oak, rude and grand, neither is it simply a vine. It is both. Around the oak of truth runs the vine of beauty.

A large, branching, aged oak is perhaps the most venerable of all inanimate objects.

An oak tree and a rosebush grew, Young and green together, Talking the talk of growing things- Wind and water and weather. And while the rosebush sweetly bloomed The oak tree grew so high That now it spoke of newer things- Eagles, mountain peaks and sky. "I guess you think you're pretty great," The rose was heard to cry, Screaming as loud as it possibly could To the treetop in the sky. "And now you have no time for flower talk, Now that you've grown so tall." "It's not so much that I've grown," said the tree, "It's just that you've stayed so small.

A large oak tree is just a little nut that refused to give up.