The original writer is not he who refrains from imitating others, but he who can be imitated by none.
Franois-Ren De ChateaubriandRead
Forests were the first temples of the Divinity, and it is in the forests that men have grasped the first idea of architecture.
Interpretation
Forests inspired early human architecture and spirituality.
This quote emphasizes the profound connection between humans and nature, suggesting that forests played a crucial role in shaping early human thoughts on divinity and architectural design. By referring to forests as the 'first temples', it highlights the sacredness people attributed to these natural environments and how they influenced human creativity and spirituality.
In practice
During a nature retreat, I shared a quote about forests as temples to inspire reflection on our connection with nature.
The original writer is not he who refrains from imitating others, but he who can be imitated by none.
A moral character is attached to autumnal scenes; the leaves falling like our years, the flowers fading like our hours, the clouds fleeting like our illusions, the light diminishing like our intelligence, the sun growing colder like our affections, the rivers becoming frozen like our lives--all bear secret relations to our destinies.
Every man carries within himself a world made up of all that he has seen and loved; and it is to this world that he returns, incessantly, though he may pass through and seem to inhabit a world quite foreign to it.
A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play; his labor and his leisure; his mind and his body; his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which.
Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness.
With every drop of water you drink, every breath you take, you're connected to the sea. No matter where on Earth you live.
I think of rivers, of tides. Forests and water gushing out. Rain and lightning. Rocks and shadows. All of these are in me.
Us sing and dance, make faces and give flower bouquets, trying to be loved. You ever notice that trees do everything to git attention we do, except walk?
Wan February with weeping cheer,_x000D_ _x000D_ Whose cold hand guides the youngling year_x000D_ _x000D_ Down misty roads of mire and rime,_x000D_ _x000D_ Before thy pale and fitful face_x000D_ _x000D_ The shrill wind shifts the clouds apace_x000D_ _x000D_ Through skies the morning scarce may climb._x000D_ _x000D_ Thine eyes are thick with heavy tears,_x000D_ _x000D_ But lit with hopes that light the year's.
Every morning was a cheerful invitation to make my life of equal simplicity, and I may say innocence, with Nature herself.
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