Quotes about sycamore

A collection of quotes on the topic of sycamore, tree.

Tree

Quotes about sycamore

“We could have chopped down the sycamore with this…”

Source: Martin the Warrior

“No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees,
sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air,
dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding,
our animal passion rooted in the city.”

Adrienne Rich book The Dream of a Common Language

Source: The Dream of a Common Language

Imagination, Tree, Passion, Animals

“To really touch something, she is learning—the bark of a sycamore tree in the gardens; a pinned stag beetle in the Department of Etymology; the exquisitely polished interior of a scallop shell in Dr. Geffard’s workshop—is to love it.”

Anthony Doerr book All the Light We Cannot See

Source: All the Light We Cannot See

Love, Tree, Learning

“I'd scale that monster sycamore if I could. Right to the top. And I'd yell her name across the rooftops for the whole world to hear.

-Bryce”

Wendelin Van Draanen Flipped

Source: Flipped

World

“Oh, the moon is fair tonight along the Wabash,
From the fields there comes the breath of new-mown hay;
Through the sycamores the candle lights are gleaming
On the banks of the Wabash, far away.”

Theodore Dreiser (1871–1945) Novelist, journalist

On the Banks of the Wabash (1896), chorus; this song as a whole was written by Dreiser's brother Paul (known as Paul Dresser); but Dreiser stated that "I wrote the first verse and chorus", in A Hoosier Holiday (1916) Ch. XLIII: "The Mystery of Coincidence".

Light

“She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father's voice and her sister Margaret's. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.”

Kate Chopin book The Awakening

The Awakening (1899)

Dogs, Sister, Tree, Bee

“Something stirs that once had life. It drops
Into the stream, a last act of faith.
Seedballs of sycamore, incautious leaves of willow,
These have outstayed their autumn, teasing death
Only so far, not yet beyond all patience.
Now they let go.”

Donald Davidson (1893–1968) American poet, essayist, critic and author

Aunt Maria and the Gourds

Life, Autumn