Sherman Alexie Quotes

I can feel the wind go by when I run. It feels good. It feels fast.

Followers of trails and of seasons, breakers of camp in the little dawn wind, seekers of watercourses over the wrinkled rind of the world, o seekers, o finders of reasons to be up and be gone.

The Dead travel fast.

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

Almost before the big motor-car stopped, the girl sprang out.

Only the soldier pines and sentinels still showed green; the broadleaf trees had donned mantles of russet and gold, or else uncloaked themselves to scratch against the sky with branches brown and bare.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.

Our nature lies in movement; complete calm is death.

The important thing in aeroplanes is that they shall be speedy.

April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances

One may prefer spring and summer to autumn and winter, but preference is hardly to the point. The earth turns, and we live in the grain of nature, turning with it.

Ah, you've come over the water. Powerful wet stuff, ain't it?

Not the sun or summer alone, but every hour and season yields its tribute of delight.

you could see the roads crisscrossing over the fields. When cars went by, far away, the beams were so bright they seemed to be ropes of light pulling the cars behind.

O beautiful, awful summer day, what hast thou given, what taken away?

Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the village had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which had looked shrunken and bare in the earlier months, had now burst into strong life and health; and stretching forth their green arms over the thirsty ground, converted open and naked spots into choice nooks, where was a deep and pleasant shade from which to look upon the wide prospect, steeped in sunshine, which lay stretched out beyond.

Life is a green madness just now, trying to squeeze the last bit of warmth from the season.

And so the seasons went rolling on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass.

We all travel the milky way together, trees and men; but it never occurred to me until this storm-day, while swinging in the wind, that trees are travelers in the ordinary sense. They make many journeys, not extensive ones, it is true; but our own little journeys, away and back again, are only little more than tree-wavings - many of them not so much.

I followed those highway signs and I've run down those thin white lines.

But when spring and summer happens, it's intuition. Everything is based on intuition. There's not too much time to overthink, over-complicate. Those wild strawberries, they might be there for two days.

When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.

In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look; But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time.

Go fast enough to get there, but slow enough to see.

What if the leaves were to fall a-weeping, and say, "It will be so painful for us to be pulled from our stalks, when autumn comes?" Foolish fear! Summer goes, and autumn succeeds. The glory of death is upon the leaves; and the gentlest breeze that blows takes them softly and silently from the bough, and they float slowly down, like fiery sparks, upon the moss.