Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.

Sometimes the valley below is like a bowl filled up with fog. I can see hard green figs on two trees and pears on a tree just below me. A fine crop coming in. May summer last a hundred years.

Between every two pine trees there is a door leading to a new way of life.

I’d like a relationship that was like two tree trunks side by side, strong but independent.

Love is not breathlessness; It is not excitement; It is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love”, which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

I hit two trees and fell down a ditch. And that was just walking from the lodge.

The boughs of no two trees ever have the same arrangement. Nature always produces individuals; She never produces classes.

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!

Surely you‘re not saying that God had to choose between long life and intelligence for human beings! It’s there in your own Bible, Carlotta. Two trees – knowledge and life. You eat of the tree of knowledge and you will surely die. You eat of the tree of life and you remain a child in the garden forever, undying.

I cannot tell you what hotel I’m staying at, but there are two trees involved.

How small life is here and how big nothingness. The sky, tired of light, has given everything to the snow. The two trees bow their heads to each other. Clouds cross the world’s silence in a circle dance

Any fool can destroy trees. They cannot run away; and if they could, they would still be destroyed-chased and hunted down as long as fun or a dollar could be got of their bark hides.