Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning how to sail my ship.
-Louisa May Alcott
A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
One cannot fix one’s eyes on the commonest natural production without finding food for a rambling fancy.