Suddenly a mist of green on the trees, as quiet as thought.
The world is quiet here.
It was only from an inner calm that man was able to discover and shape calm surroundings.
We went down into the silent garden. Dawn is the time when nothing breathes, the hour of silence. Everything is transfixed, only the light moves.
As our own peace of mind grows, so the atmosphere around us becomes more peaceful.
The quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened.
It's pleasanter to work in the country, where you can wander out among the trees. But I don't get as much work done. In the city you don't want to leave the room because there's all that chaos going on.
L.A. can be intense, but the second you get over the hill into Calabasas, your stress level immediately drops because it's so peaceful and safe. Sometimes I really miss it.
My dream is to have a house on the beach, even just a little shack somewhere so I can wake up, have coffee, look at dolphins, be quiet and breathe the air.
Radio, sewing machine, bookends, ironing board and that great big piano lamp - peace, that's what I like. Butterbean vines planted all along the front where the strings are.
I seldom meet with characters so inoffensive as my hens and chickings, or minds so well improved as my garden.
Commenting on the politicians in the Madison administration:
It was not that the jagged precipices were lofty, that the encircling woods were the dimmest shade, or that the waters were profoundly deep; but that over all, rocks, wood, and water, brooded the spirit of repose, and the silent energy of nature stirred the soul to its inmost depths.
I live in a very nice neighborhood. There's nothing that really goes on around here.
There is nowhere in the world where sleep is so deep as in the libraries of the House of Commons.
deep in the meadow , under the willow , a bed of grass , a soft green pillow
It is not often given in a noisy world to come to the places of great grief and silence.
Go where there is silence and say something.
Everything is very quiet, the streets are never crowded, and the people one dislikes are out of town.
I like big, open, spare landscapes. There's lots of room. Nobody bothers you... I feel as if I can think there.
Geneva has the sleepy tidiness of a man who combs his hair while yet in his pyjamas.
She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean.
The ideal view for daily writing, hour for hour, is the blank brick wall of a cold-storage warehouse. Failing this, a stretch of sky will do, cloudless if possible.
It was the work of the quiet mountains, this torrent of purity at my feet.
Come to the woods, for here is rest.
She told them simply and directly that the meadow was a place of peace and beauty, where indeed if one came to it in a quiet manner, the animals would not be disturbed; for there are lovely birds, and squirrels and field mice, and sometimes deer.