Guy Finley Quotes

When the leaves of the strongest tree fall, spring is here.

I could not have known then that everybody, every person, has to leave, has to change like seasons; they have to or they die. The seasons remind me that I must keep changing.

Our molting season, like that of the fouls, must be a crisis in our lives.

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.

There was a moth in there, and it still had its wings crumpled up, and it was just starting to pump its wings up. Life continues in lots of places, and life is a magical thing.

When one's dead, one's dead... This squirrel will become earth all in his time. And still later on, there'll grow new trees from him, with new squirrels skipping about in them. Do you think that's so very sad?

Loss is nothing else but change, and change is Nature's delight.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?

He not busy being born is busy dying.

I always figure I have this tree and there's always some green fruit that's not ready to pick or blossoms that are ready to flower; there are always some ready to drop off too.

What's so fascinating and frustrating and great about life is that you're constantly starting over, all the time, and I love that.

Look abroad thro' Nature's range. Nature's mighty law is change.

We've reinvented ourselves many, many, many times.

In the fall, you don't grieve because the leaves are falling and dying. You say, "Isn't it beautiful!" Well, we're the same way. There are seasons. We all fall sooner or later. It's all so beautiful. And our concepts, without investigation, keep us from knowing this. It's beautiful to be a leaf, to be born, to fall, to give way to the next, to become food for the roots. It's life, always changing its form and always giving itself completely. We all do our part. No mistake.

Life has a way of overgrowing its achievements as well as its ruins.

Think of the fierce energy concentrated in an acorn! You bury it in the ground, and it explodes into an oak! Bury a sheep, and nothing happens but decay.

Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year's leaves are scattered on the ground; but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round.

Spring flies, and with it all the train it leads; and flowers, in fading, leave us but their seeds.

And even our present acres of death will someday bloom again.

In our hearts those of us who know anything worth knowing know that in March a new year begins, and if we plan any new leaves, it will be when the rest of Nature is planning them too.

One withers, another grows.