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"You, my friend, could be the smoke's daughter, you who may not have known you were born of fire and rage,lightning over flaming lava etched your violet mouth,your sex in the scorched oak's moss like a ring in a nest,your fingers there in the flames, your compact bodyrose from leaves of fire that make me recallthere were bakers in your family tree,you're still the rainforest's bread, ash from violent wheat."
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"In the draws the smoke coming off the ground like mist and the thin black trees burning on the slopes like heathen candles."
"Every now and then I sit and watch the sun rise to remind myself how it's done-peacefully, steadily, warmly, and in beautiful color."
"Custom is second nature."
"To become an able and successful man in any profession, three things are necessary, nature, study and practice."
"Sipping teawith gleebeneath a gooseberry tree.I wish Alice were here.Oh, my dear,do not fear,she will be."
"They passed, leaving a trail of foxfire shuffled up out of the wet leaves like stars plowed in a ship's wake."
"There are great roads, beautiful bridges, lovely parks, gorgeous gardens and wonderful buildings in a big city. But there is something missing, something very important: The spirit of nature!"
"Wind is the sacred music of the leaves; wherever and whenever the wind blows, over there leaves start their holy dancing frantically!"
Explore more quotes by Pablo Neruda
"I love the piece of earth you are,because in all the planetary prairiesI do not have another star. You repeatthe multiplication of the universe."
"I repeated: come with me, as if I were dying,and no one saw in my mouth the moon that was bleeding,no one saw the blood that was rising into the silence.Oh love, now let us forget the star with thorns!"
"No one will retrieve my lost heartamidst so many roots, in the bitter freshnessof the sun multiplied by the fury of the water,there the shadow lives that does not travel with me."
"To harden the earththe rocks took charge:instantlythey grew wings:the rocksthat soared:the survivorsflew upthe lightning bolt,screamed in the night,a watermark,a violet sword,a meteor.The succulentskyhad not only clouds,not only space smelling of oxygen,but an earthly stoneflashing here and therechanged into a dove,changed into a bell,into immensity, into a piercingwind:into a phosphorescent arrow,into salt of the sky."
"A book,a book fullof human touches,of shirts,a bookwithout loneliness, with menand tools,a bookis victory."
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