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Lakes Quotes

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Lakes Quotes

“The greatest thinkers have attempted to find who we are where we come from and why we are here but the greatest enigmas to me are how your hair is a lasso that captures the stars how your eyes are lakes that drown my doubts and how your skin is the sun bursting all at once. If I knew these answers I’d know everything for you alone contain the entire universe.”

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Author:Kamand Kojouri
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“Also, someone stating that an experience being experienced a certain way, takes away from the experience, is absurd to me. "If you've never been in the lake with no clothes on before, then you've never been in the lake" is an outrageous statement, and a false one. I would venture to guess that the experience would be the same, with or without clothes, due to the relatively unrestrictive nature of swimwear. To be fair though, because I do value fairness and demand it from others, I could be wrong about my assessment of this. I, myself, have never been in the lake.”

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Book:Handsome Vanilla
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“During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries a practical knowledge of the construction of small lakes was part of the equipment of most countrymen. Many of the holes they dug and dams they built still hold water and are now often regarded as 'natural.' They are of immeasurable value in the landscape.”

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Book:Designed for recreation: A practical handbook for all concerned with providing leisure facilities in the countryside;
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“If you can add a great beauty to something which is already beautiful, then you must be very beautiful like a white swan adding beauty to a misty lake!”

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Author:Mehmet Murat Ildan
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“The lake hadn’t been frozen long and of all them had been expressly forbidden to go out on it, but Norman Pye, who was older than the rest of them, said that it would be safe if they slid out on their bellies. So they did. “We thought it was exciting as all get out,” Miss Vernon said. “We could hear the ice cracking but it didn’t give, and we slid across it like seals. Oh, it was tremendous fun. The ice was clear as glass and you could see right to the bottom. All the stones lying there, brighter and more colourful than they ever are when you look through the water. You could even see fish swimming about. And then all at once there was this loud crack and the whole sheet gave way, and there we were in the water.”

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Book:Crow Lake
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“If you are a boat and your lake is frozen, what can you do? You will wait for the spring! We are lucky that we are humans, we don’t have to wait for the spring; we can break the ice if necessary, we can use fire to open our way! Nothing can stop the mind if the mind decides to move to his target!”

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Author:Mehmet Murat Ildan
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“We stood upon a hill, green and studded with pale stones. Below us was forest, bluebells undulating among the trees, a tide of purple dissolving into shadow. There was a lake-- no, two lakes, the second a mere line of glitter in the distance. At our back, behind the nexus and extending to the northern horizon, were mountains of indigo and layered shadow, some darkened to black by the moody sky overhead, some greyed and smudged by shafts of sunlight. Must I even say it? It was beautiful--- of course it was. The forest in particular, which glinted here and there with silver as the wind rode the branches, as if someone had clambered into the canopy to hang baubles. And yet I had the sense that I was not seeing the entirety of it, that the shadows were thicker here, more obscuring, than those in the mortal realm, and many of the details were clouded by a dreamlike haze. Even now, as I write these words--- I am still in Wendell's kingdom!--- I find the memory of that view trying to slip from my mind like a bird darting through the boughs, so that I catch only the flickering edge of it. Perhaps there is some enchantment embedded in the place, or perhaps it is simply too much for my mortal eyes to take in. Where the Trees Have Eyes.”

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Book:Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
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“Truly landlocked people know they are. Know the occasional Bitter Creek or Powder River that runs through Wyoming; that the large tidy Salt Lake of Utah is all they have of the sea and that they must content themselves with bank, shore and beach because they cannot claim a coast. And having none, seldom dream of flight. But the people living in the Great Lakes region are confused by their place on the country's edge - an edge that is border but not coast. They seem to be able to live a long time believing, as coastal people do, that they are at the frontier where final exit and total escape are the only journeys left. But those five Great Lakes which the St. Lawrence feeds with memories of the sea are themselves landlocked, in spite of the wandering river that connects them to the Atlantic. Once the people of the lake region discover this, the longing to leave because acute, and a break from the area, therefore, is necessarily dream-bitten, but necessary nonetheless. It might be an appetite for other streets, other slants of light. Or a yearning to be surrounded by strangers. It may even be a wish to hear the solid click of a door closing behind their backs.”

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Book:Song Of Solomon
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“Many of the town’s residents summered up North, along with their horses. Others took long, slow weekends at the beach or on the lake or in the mountains, in family homes built by their great grandparents and passed through the generations like prized silver. The rest of us simply tempered our pace and entered into the peace that floated around us on the breeze of a slow-moving fan.”

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Book:The Rhythm of Selby
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“Shadow On The Lake by Stewart Stafford Neighbour coughing up phlegm, As Stefan began his morning jog, With an elderly shadow escort, His stooping gait shocked him. Outcast sleeper in their lakeside car, Windows fogged with condensation, Homeless sightseer or lost tourist? Absconded prisoner, lovers entwined? He left the stranger(s) undisturbed, Pulling a sharp U-turn at the lake, His aged shape still fleet of foot, Dormant fugitive(s) eating his dust. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“Lac Sainte-Claire is itself a creature of the wild, a world where the synthetic and the organic commingle. At this early hour, it looks like a sheet of quicksilver being shaken by invisible hands. Then, as morning brings heat and light, plastic objects, immersed steel structures, and an oily sheen become visible on its surface. Large ships advance in cavernous silence, waterfowl rise above the horizon.”

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Book:The Future
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“Perhaps the most impressive illustration of all is to suppose that you could label the molecules in a tumbler of water. ... threw it anywhere you please on the earth, and went away from the earth for a few million years while all the water on the earth, the oceans, rivers, lakes and clouds had had time to mix up perfectly. Now supposing that perfect mixing had taken place, you come back to earth and draw a similar tumbler of water from the nearest tap, how many of those marked molecules would you expect to find in it? Well, the answer is 2000. There are 2000 times more molecules in a tumbler of water than there are tumblers of water in the whole earth.”

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Author:Francis William Aston
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“Quando me acometia à noite, em vez de dormir, eu deitava-me horas seguidas no vão da janela, olhava o lago negro, as silhuetas dos montes recortadas contra o céu pálido e, por cima, as belas estrelas. Depois, não raro, era tomado por um forte sentimento temeroso e doce, como se toda esta beleza nocturna me observasse com um justo olhar reprovador. Como se as estrelas, as montanhas e os lagos ansiassem por alguém que compreendesse e expressasse a sua beleza e a dor da sua existência silenciosa, como se fosse eu esse alguém, como se a minha verdadeira missão fosse a de, pela escrita, dar expressão à natureza silenciosa. De que forma isto seria possível, era coisa sobre que nunca pensava, senão que sentia apenas a bela noite, grave, esperar por mim numa exigência silenciosa.”

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Author:Herman Hesse
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“When I grew up in the early '90s, the new World Wide Web felt like a gimmick, and I had no idea of the changes in store. In the summers, I'd backpack through Europe, follow the Grateful Dead. I had a car and a tent and traveled around the Great Lakes and out West. Jack Kerouac was my guiding light, his 'On the Road' a sacred text.”

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Author:Tony D'Souza
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“Winter is the king of showmen, Turning tree stumps into snowmen And houses into birthday cakes And spreading sugar over lakes. Smooth and clean and frosty white, The world looks good enough to bite. That’s the season to be young, Catching snowflakes on your tongue. Snow is snowy when it’s snowing, I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.”

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Author:Ogden Nash
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