Sublime
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Ever south, we followed the beautiful white line. I drove slowly. A tender day, a sky like the sea, the sea like the sky. On the left the golden hills, the gold of winter. A day for saying nothing, for admiring lonely trees, sand dunes, and piles of white stones along the road. Camilla’s land, Camilla’s home, the sea and the desert, the beautiful e
... See moreJohn Fante • Ask the Dust
—John Muir, Travels in Alaska, 1915
Thich Nhat Hanh • Love Letter to the Earth
Far up the mountain, where the trees thinned out, just on the dividing line between sunshine and shadow, was a single, isolated building, as dwarfed by its surroundings as a fly drowning in a churn of milk. “The Bella Vista,” said the Colonel, almost reverently. There was a silence. “I didn’t realise it was so far up,” said Emmy at last, in a small
... See morePatricia Moyes • Dead Men Don't Ski
Whether on foot, on showshoes or by sled, into the summer hills and their late freezing shadows—a high blaze, a runner track in the snow would show where I had gone. Let the rest of mankind find me if it could. JOHN HAINES, THE STARS, THE SNOW, THE FIRE: TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE NORTHERN WILDERNESS
Jon Krakauer • Into the Wild
The aunts were not invited to potluck suppers or library fund-raisers, but when a woman in town quarreled with her lover, when she found herself pregnant by someone who wasn’t her husband, or discovered that the man she’d married was unfaithful as a hound, then there she’d be, at the Owens back door, just after twilight, the hour when the shadows c
... See moreAlice Hoffman • Practical Magic: The Beloved Novel of Love, Friendship, Sisterhood and Magic (The Practical Magic Series Book 3)
Sometimes back then, fishing with Jasper up the Sulphur, I hit my limit. I mean it felt my heart might just burst. Bursting is different than breaking. Like there is no way to contain how beautiful. Not it either, not just beauty. Something about how I fit. This little bend of smooth stones, the leaning cliffs. The smell of spruce. The small cutthr
... See morePeter Heller • The Dog Stars
A breeze buffets my palm held a foot from the wall. A wind like this does my breathing for me; it engenders something quick and kicking in my lungs. Pliny believed the mares of the Portuguese used to raise their tails to the wind, “and turn them full against it, and so conceive that genital air instead of natural seed: in such sort, as they become
... See moreAnnie Dillard • Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
Here was evidently a people highly skilled, efficient, caring for their country as a florist cares for his costliest orchids.
Charlotte Gilman • Herland
No matter how many times she is forbidden, quelled, cut back, diluted, tortured, touted as unsafe, dangerous, mad, and other derogations, she emanates upward in women, so that even the most quiet, even the most restrained woman keeps a secret place for her. Even the most repressed woman has a secret life, with secret thoughts and secret feelings wh
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