Antoine de Saint-Exupery Quotes

I go among trees and sit still. All my stirring becomes quiet around me like circles on water.

A tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me!... Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

Flakes of white fall thru the trees and onto the road, catching on our clothes and hair. It's a silent fall and it's weird how it makes everything else seem quiet, too, like it's trying to tell you a secret, a terrible, terrible secret.

Seek out a tree and let it teach you stillness.

The patient. The pine tree seems to listen, the fir tree to wait: and both without impatience: - they give no thought to the little people beneath them devoured by their impatience and their curiosity.

Look at a tree, a flower, a plant. Let your awareness rest upon it. How still they are, how deeply rooted in Being. Allow nature to teach you stillness.

When you look at a tree and perceive its stillness, you become still yourself. You connect with it at a very deep level. You feel a oneness with whatever you perceive in and through stillness.

And what is death, if not a face at peace - its artistic perfection.

But I do like churches. The way it feels inside. It feels good when you just sit there, like you're in a forest and everything's really quiet, expect there's still this sound you can't hear.

No one dare disturb the sound of silence...

I didn't walk over and talk to him, though, not then. If I needed the time for a tree branch to become just a tree branch again and the wind to become just the wind, then a boy, most of all, needed some time to be only a boy.

To look upon its grass grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace.

There may be no trumpet sound or loud applause when we make a right decision, just a calm sense of resolution and peace.

I get up very early in the morning. I enjoy the quietness, the stillness, the rawness in the winter and fall. It's a special time.

And then, at night, the lit lamp and the drawn curtain, with the flutter of the turned page and soft scrape of pen on paper the only sounds to break the silence between quarter- and quarter-chime.

The thing that I love, especially after sound check, is when I'm in that stadium alone. It's complete silence. I love that.

And soften'd sounds along the waters die: Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play.

I like old people, just as I like old trees: in their shadow there is freshness and peace, one admires them, and around them everything is so calm.

My favorite piece [piece of music] is the one we hear all the time if we are quiet.

She took comfort in the soft occasional sound of turning pages.

As sunbeams stream through liberal space And nothing jostle or displace, So waved the pine-tree through my thought And fanned the dreams it never brought.

In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.

I turn off the radio, listen to the quiet. Which has its own, rich sound. Which I knew, but had forgotten. And it is good to remember.

Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will always fill my heart with sweet clarity