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Hills Quotes

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Hills Quotes

“পা ফেললে এখানে কোনো শব্দ হয় না। পাতার নরম আর্দ্র গালচেয় পা পড়ে। ভুরভুর করে আতরের মত বনজগন্ধ ওঠে। এখনও হু হু করে হাওয়া বইছে, ভেজা জঙ্গল — পাহাড়ের প্রভাতী গন্ধ বয়ে — সেই পরিষ্কার, নির্মল শীতল হাওয়া ফুসফুসের হয়ত হৃদয়েরও যা কিছু কালিমা সব সঙ্গে সঙ্গে মুছে নিচ্ছে।”

NaturePositiveRomanticGreenHillsMountainsForest
Book:একটু উষ্ণতার জন্য
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“There are people whose wellbeing and survival depends on your wellbeing and longevity. Live a productive and fulfilling life, while you acknowledge those who need you the most. It doesn't matter the number or type of mountains you have to climb. This journey of life is made of hills, mountains and valleys anyway. Keep going! Look ahead to the joy of being at the mountaintop. Choose to celebrate your life and recognize the value in you. Let nothing stop you from greatness. You are created by a Majestic God.”

JoyLife PhilosophyHillsKeep GoingValleysMountainsClimbMountaintopMajestic God
Author:Gift Gugu Mona
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“Surely,” he said, “the great mountains of the world are a present remedy if men did but know it against our modern discontent and ambitions. In the hills is wisdom’s fount. They are deep in time. They know the ways of the sun and the wind, the lightning’s fiery feet, the frost that shattereth, the rain that shroudeth, the snow that putteth about their nakedness a softer coverlet than fine lawn.”

LifeWisdomNaturePatienceHills
Book:The worm Ouroboros
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“Today, she is standing at the top of a mountain and appreciating the majestic panoramic view of mesmerizing Himalaya. As a kid, she used to look up in the sky and wish for wings to fly up to the mountains. And now after a long wait of many years, she is standing here and living her dream. It’s the moment when she can’t believe her eyes because what she always dreamed of has come alive. She looks with amazement as if she’s witnessing a miracle. It is the moment of her life. She just wants to feel it. There are beautiful clouds below her and there are snow clad mountain peaks emerging from those clouds. The white peaks shining in blue sky among white clouds look like glittering diamonds to her. The view of the large lush green meadow surrounded by mountains under blue sky with a rainbow circling the horizon has put her in a state of tranquility. As the sun starts drowning in the horizon, the sky begins to boast his mystical colours. The beautiful mix of pink, orange and red looks like creating a twilight saga. She opens her both arm and takes a deep breath to entwine with the nature. The glimmering rays of the moon are paying tribute to her by kissing her warm cheeks and her eyes twinkle in bright moon light. She raises her face towards the moon and senses the flood of memories which she wants to unleash. The cool breeze lifts her ruffled hair and blows her skirt up. She closes her eyes and breathes deep as if she wants to let her know that she is finally here and then she opens her eyes and finds herself on the same wheelchair inside a room with an empty wall in front of her eye. Tears rolls down from her eye but these are the tears of Joy because she is living her dreams today. The feelings comes to her mind while waiting for her daughter who is coming back home today after her first expedition of a high range mountain ~ AB”

DreamJoyPassionTearsTravelHillsHikingMountainsTrekkingShe
Author:Ashish Bhardwaj
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“The snow grew deeper as we laboured down the hill. The land was a flat white pall, spread out like rumpled wool. Into the distance stretched the solid sea, sullen and murky beneath the ice. The sea will trick a man, seeming frozen and steadfast on the surface, but under the white crust, the black water gulps greedily at the breathing world above. In time, I knew, despite everything that had happened, the sun would rise and the light would glitter off the ice, like shards of glass. The world would glow.”

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Book:The Glass Woman
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“But this isn't standard Japanese picnic fare: not a grain of rice or a pickled plum in sight. Instead, they fill the varnished wooden tables with thick slices of crusty bread, wedges of weeping cheese, batons of hard salamis, and slices of cured ham. To drink, bottles of local white wine, covered in condensation, and high-alcohol microbews rich in hops and local iconography. From the coastline we begin our slow, dramatic ascent into the mountains of Hokkaido. The colors bleed from broccoli to banana to butternut to beet as we climb, inching ever closer to the heart of autumn. My neighbors, an increasingly jovial group of thirtysomethings with a few words of English to spare, pass me a glass of wine and a plate of cheese, and I begin to feel the fog dissipate. We stop at a small train station in the foothills outside of Ginzan, and my entire car suddenly empties. A husband-and-wife team has set up a small stand on the train platform, selling warm apple hand pies made with layers of flaky pastry and apples from their orchard just outside of town. I buy one, take a bite, then immediately buy there more. Back on the train, young uniformed women flood the cars with samples of Hokkaido ice cream. The group behind me breaks out in song, a ballad, I'm later told, dedicated to the beauty of the season. Everywhere we go, from the golden fields of empty cornstalks to the dense forest thickets to the rushing rivers that carve up this land like the fat of a Wagyu steak, groups of camouflaged photographers lie in wait, tripods and shutter releases ready, hoping to capture the perfect photo of the SL Niseko steaming its way through the hills of Hokkaido.”

HillsAutumnNatures BeautyFood And WineSpecial TreatmentBread And CheeseFood SamplesHokkaidoRustic CharmTrain Ride
Book:Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture
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“It's barely 8:00 a.m., but my train mates waste little time in breaking out the picnic material. But this isn't standard Japanese picnic fare: not a grain of rice or a pickled plum in sight. Instead, they fill the varnished wooden tables with thick slices of crusty bread, wedges of weeping cheese, batons of hard salamis, and slices of cured ham. To drink, bottles of local white wine, covered in condensation, and high-alcohol microbews rich in hops and local iconography. From the coastline we begin our slow, dramatic ascent into the mountains of Hokkaido. The colors bleed from broccoli to banana to butternut to beet as we climb, inching ever closer to the heart of autumn. My neighbors, an increasingly jovial group of thirtysomethings with a few words of English to spare, pass me a glass of wine and a plate of cheese, and I begin to feel the fog dissipate. We stop at a small train station in the foothills outside of Ginzan, and my entire car suddenly empties. A husband-and-wife team has set up a small stand on the train platform, selling warm apple hand pies made with layers of flaky pastry and apples from their orchard just outside of town. I buy one, take a bite, then immediately buy three more. Back on the train, young uniformed women flood the cars with samples of Hokkaido ice cream. The group behind me breaks out in song, a ballad, I'm later told, dedicated to the beauty of the season. Everywhere we go, from the golden fields of empty cornstalks to the dense forest thickets to the rushing rivers that carve up this land like the fat of a Wagyu steak, groups of camouflaged photographers lie in wait, tripods and shutter releases ready, hoping to capture the perfect photo of the SL Niseko steaming its way through the hills of Hokkaido.”

HillsNatures BeautyFood And WineSpecial TreatmentBread And CheeseFood SamplesHokkaidoTrain Ride
Book:Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture
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“The rolling hills we traveled through were lined with rows of crisscrossed crops- apple and pear trees, vines of grapes, and maize- creating bafflingly precise geometries. In the forested areas, the branches on the trees drooped lugubriously like the long sleeves of Druid priests. Jonathan pointed to the curved roads that cut through the hillsides and valleys. "Forged by Romans, Mina!" he said. "So many civilizations have come and gone on this land- Celts, Romans, Normans, Mongols, French. Who knows how many more?”

HillsCropsNatures BeautyAustriaFruit TreesCivilizations
Book:Dracula in Love
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“The oblong tower of the church, with its wrought-iron steeple, caught the last reflections of the sun against the hills. This is what a cinematographer would call the golden hour, the glowing time just after the sun sinks below the horizon and before the dark sets in. It's the watercolor skies--- discreet layers of cotton-candy pink, dusky rose, and periwinkle, when the fields are their deepest green, and the wheat has a halo that rises from the surface. We were standing on the medieval ramparts, the walls that once protected this small community from the hostilities of the outside world. Just below us was a field of lavender, the rows tidy and symmetrical. Just behind, a hedge of rosemary bushes. In the distance I could make out the summit of Reillanne, golden city on a hill.”

HillsTwilightNatures BeautyProvenceGolden HourColors Of The Sunset
Book:Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes
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“As they drove onto the bridge that would bring them round to the north side of the station, the phrase "purple hills and crystal waters," an old poetic shorthand for Kyoto's scenic beauty, came to Takayuki's mind. The hilly Higashiyama area to the east was veiled in a purplish spring haze, and chances were good that the waters of the Kamogawa were looking pretty crystalline too. Good old Rai San'yo, he thought, recalling the poet who'd coined the phrase.”

HillsPurpleNatures BeautyKyotoJapanese Poets
Book:The Menu of Happiness
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“Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’d The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds, And ‘twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ‘em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book.”

MagicHillsBrooksElvesThe TempestProsperoEbbing Neptune
Book:The Tempest
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“Boeing To Gravity by Stewart Stafford Tumbling down a hill, An upside-down idyll, No time to make a will, If prematurely killed. And as you tumble down, Slowly fades your frown, Falling ankle over crown, Rolling all the way to town. Reach the end with a bump, Sporting that fetching lump, And to your feet, you jump, As excited fists both pump. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved”

HillsFalling DownUpside DownTumblingChildishHillLosing BalanceRolling DownJack And Jill
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“To wish a life without stairs, without hills and mountains is to wish a dim life without the joy of rising with our own efforts!”

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Author:Mehmet Murat Ildan
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“You resting your head tenderly on my shoulders while we sit below the old Oak tree. And we smile at each other and gaze lovingly at the fascinating sunset over the hills. This moment makes me feel completely alive as if we have reached not just cloud nine or ten but also cloud infinity!”

Life QuotesHillsPoetry QuotesLove QuoteMuseWriters On WritingRomance QuotesLove PoemWriters QuotesWriters LifePoetry LovePoetry Quotes LoveSunset QuotesOak TreeSky QuotesPoetry Of LifeClouds QuotesValentines QuoteCloud NineSunset Sky
Author:Avijeet Das
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“When we talk of flood control, we usually think of dams and deeper river channels, to impound the waters or hurry their run-off. Yet neither is the ultimate solution, simply because floods are caused by the flow of water downhill. If the hills are wooded, that flow is checked. If there is a swamp at the foot of the hills, the swamp sponges up most of the excess water, restores some of it to the underground water supply and feeds the remainder slowly into the streams. Strip the hills, drain the boglands, and you create flood conditions inevitably. Yet that is what we have been doing for years.”

IfsThinkingYearsHas BeensRunningWaterFeetConditionsSolutionsFlowRiversUltimateDeeperWoodsHillsStreamsExcessFloodDrainsSwampsSpongesProblems And SolutionsSolution To A ProblemDams
Author:Hal Borland
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