Laurent Baheux Quotes

O Solitude! If I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap of murky buildings

Some of my most special shooting experiences have been at weekends.

Nature is our chapel.

I like going into nature and that's where I'm happiest.

When I need to think of, like, a peaceful scene or something, I think of my back garden in summertime. And whenever I hear the lawnmower next door, I always think it's really peaceful.

Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife …

I love the countryside, which is where I live and feel most comfortable, and hate being surrounded by herds of people.

I'm always surrounded by crazy people, but when I come back to the country I'm into my plants, I love gardening, I love bird watching and I absolutely love nature.

I love to be surrounded by nature.

I stood tip-toe upon a little hill, The air was cooling, and so very still, That the sweet buds which with a modest pride Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside, Their scantly leaved, and finely tapering stems, Had not yet lost those starry diadems Caught from the early sobbing of the morn.

The quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened.

Tranquility is the old man's milk.

It is a time of quiet joy, the sunny morning. When the glittery dew is on the mallow weeds, each leaf holds a jewel which is beautiful if not valuable. This is no time for hurry or for bustle. Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.

The more they made noise, the more calm I became.

The sun, a red wheel, was sinking slowly in the west. Besides being spectacularly beautiful, the early-summer sunset was exceedingly soft and gentle: black mulberry leaves turned as red as roses; pristine white acacia petals shed an enshrouding pale-green aura. Mild evening breezes made both the mulberry leaves and the acacia petals dance and whirl, filling the woods with a soft rustle.

Here I came to the very edge where nothing at all needs saying, everything is absorbed through weather and the sea, and the moon swam back, its rays all silvered, and time and again the darkness would be broken by the crash of a wave, and every day on the balcony of the sea, wings open, fire is born, and everything is blue again like morning.

The winds with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kisst.

Go where there is silence and say something.

For whom all winds are quiet as the sun,/ All waters as the shore.

An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.

and silence is the golden mountain

I sat me down to watch upon a bank With ivy canopied and interwove With flaunting honeysuckle.

In this silent, serene wilderness the weary can gain a heart-bath in perfect peace.

...in the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in the streets or villages...in the woods we return to reason and faith.