P. C. Cast Quotes

Aren't the clouds beautiful? I could just lie here all day, and watch them drift by.

The world is like a little marsh filled with mint and white hawthorn.

Only spread a fern-frond over a man's head and worldly cares are cast out, and freedom and beauty and peace come in.

These are the things I prize And hold of dearest worth: Light of the sapphire skies, Peace of the silent hills, Shelter of the forests, comfort of the grass, Music of birds, murmur of little rills, Shadows of cloud that swiftly pass, And, after showers, The smell of flowers And of the good brown earth,- And best of all, along the way, friendship and mirth.

I needed to be in the bush. There I find solitude and beauty and purity and focus. That's where my heart lies.

Sense the blessings of the earth in the perfect arc of a ripe tangerine, the taste of warm, fresh bread, the circling flight of birds, the lavender color of the sky shining in a late afternoon rain puddle, the million times we pass other beings in our cars and shops and out among the trees without crashing, conflict, or harm.

The Amen of nature is always a flower.

Second only to the sea, the Miami sky has been the greatest comfort in my life past 50. On a good day, when the wind blows from the south, the light here is diffuse and forgiving.

I've always found the rain very calming.

As far as what I do love, I love birds; I love lavender.

I like nothing more than walking down a country lane or along a mountain path - it's not proof that there is anything bigger than ourselves, but I feel very much at peace.

I love paddle boarding. It gives me that feeling of peace as well as an opportunity to enjoy nature's true beauty.

I love being in the woods, when I can just walk barefoot in the grass and just sit down and breathe. I love that so much.

After a day of cloud and wind and rain Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again, And touching all the darksome woods with light, Smiles on the fields until they laugh and sing, Then like a ruby from the horizon's ring, Drops down into the night.

It was the Magic Hour, the moment in time when every leaf and blade of grass seemed to separate, when sunlight, burnished by the rain and softened by the coming night, gave the world an impossibly beautiful glow.

A narrow pond would form in the orchard, water clear as air covering grass and black leaves and fallen branches, all around it black leaves and drenched grass and fallen branches, and on it, slight as an image in an eye, sky, clouds, trees, our hovering faces and our cold hands.

Often I have been exhausted on trout streams, uncomfortable, wet, cold, briar scarred, sunburned, mosquito bitten, but never, with a fly rod in my hand have I been less than in a place that was less than beautiful.

come back believer in shade believer in silence and elegance believer in ferns believer in patience believer in the rain

The world was beautiful when looked at in this way-without any seeking, so simple, so childlike.

A rested face is a beautiful face. However you can, find your place of rest and peace.

I never get tired of the blue sky.

I do not live happily or comfortably With the cleverness of our times. The talk is all about computers, The news is all about bombs and blood. This morning, in the fresh field, I came upon a hidden nest. It held four warm, speckled eggs. I touched them. Then went away softly, Having felt something more wonderful Than all the electricity of New York City.

Having the certitude of a succession of days... equally free and beautiful, peace descends on me.