And something born of the snowy desolation, born of the midnight and the silent grandeur, born of the great listening hollows of the night, something that lay 'twixt terror and wonder, dropped from the vast wintry spaces down into his heart—and called him.
~ The Glamour of the Snow
by Algernon Blackwood
It was October, and the air was cool and sharp, woodsmoke and damp moss exquisitely mingled in it with the subtle odours of the pines.
~ Secret Worship
by Algernon Blackwood
The western sky was clear and flushed with vivid crimson, towards which the prairie rolled away in varying tones of blue.
~ Blake's Burden
by Harold Bindloss
Unlike the gold which needed nothing, and must be worshipped in close-locked solitude—which was hidden away from the daylight, was deaf to the song of birds, and started to no human tones—Eppie was a creature of endless claims and ever-growing desires, seeking and loving sunshine, and living sounds, and living movements; making trial of everything, with trust in new joy, and stirring the human kindness in all eyes that looked on her.
~ Silas Marner
by George Eliot
The cool peace and dewy sweetness of the night filled me with a mood of hope: not hope on any definite point, but a general sense of encouragement and heart-ease.
by Charlotte Bronte
The whole earth was brimming sunshine that morning. She tripped along, the clear sky pouring liquid blue into her soul.
~ Sister Carrie
by Theodore Dreiser
And then, the unspeakable purity - and freshness of the air! There was just enough heat to enhance the value of the breeze, and just enough wind to keep the whole sea in motion, to make the waves come bounding to the shore, foaming and sparkling, as if wild with glee.
~ Agnes Grey
by Anne Bronte
Sunlight is the life-blood of Nature. Mother Earth looks at us with such dull, soulless eyes, when the sunlight has died away from out of her. It makes us sad to be with her then; she does not seem to know us or to care for us.
~ Three Men in a Boat
by Jerome K. Jerome
"There is your precious order, that lean, iron lamp, ugly and barren; and there is anarchy, rich, living, reproducing itself--there is anarchy, splendid in green and gold."
~ The Man Who Was Thursday
by G. K. Chesterton
Around and around the house the leaves fall thick, but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow.
~ Bleak House
by Charles Dickens