Wendell Berry Quotes

Heaven and earth conspire that everything which has been, be rooted and reduced to dust. Only the dreamers, who dream while awake, call back the shadows of the past and braid nets from the unspun thread.

Wind in my hair, I feel part of everywhere Underneath my being is a road that disappeared Late at night I hear the trees, they're singing with the dead Overhead.

Far away, our dreams have nothing to do with what we do. The wind carries the night, and passes on, aimless.

All I did was sit on the riverbank handing out river water. After I'm gone, I trust you will notice the river.

When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high-piled books, in charactery, Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting love;--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

Why live life from dream to dream, and dread the day when dreaming ends.

For this I see, that we, all we that live, Are but vain shadows, unsubstantial dreams.

Dreams last so long, even after you're gone

It is different for us mortals. We are the ones who become old and grey. We are the ones who become worn at the seams and disappear. But not our dreams. They can live on in other people even after we have gone.

Do you see that tree? It is dead but it still sways in the wind with the others. I think it would be like that with me. That if I died I would still be part of life in one way or another.

FROZEN DREAM I'll take the dream I had last night And put it in my freezer, So someday long and far away When I'm an old grey geezer, I'll take it out and thaw it out, This lovely dream I've frozen, And boil it up and sit me down A dip my old cold toes in.

Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on.

Verde que te quiero verde. Verde viento. Verde ramas. Green I love you green. Green Wind. Green branches.

A violent wind does not last for a whole morning.

Up with the sun. Gone with the wind.

Could you visit me in dreams? That would cheer me. Sweet to see friends in the night, however short the time.

Your house is your larger body. It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night; and it is not dreamless. Does not your house dream, and dreaming, leave the city for grove or hilltop?

Let there be a heaven so that man may outlive his grasses.

The trees are white with dust, that o'er their sleep Wave their broad curtains in the south-wind's breath, While underneath such leafy tents they keep The long, mysterious Exodus of Death.

Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, where art thou gone? Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate? Ask why the sunlight not for ever Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain-river, Why aught should fail and fade that once is shown, Why fear and dream and death and birth Cast on the daylight of this earth Such gloom, why man has such a scope For love and hate, despondency and hope?

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.

Sad that our finest aspiration, Our freshest dreams and meditations, In swift succession should decay, Like Autumn leaves that rot away.

That which is dreamed can never be lost, can never be undreamed.

Only do not forget, if I wake up crying it's only because in my dream I'm a lost child hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands.