Weather is a literary specialty, and no untrained hand can turn out a good article on it
Mark TwainRead
We catched fish, and talked, and we took a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness. It was kind of solemn, drifting down the big still river, laying on our backs looking up at the stars, and we didn’t ever feel like talking loud, and it warn’t often that we laughed, only a kind of low chuckle. We had mighty good weather, as a general thing, and nothing ever happened to us at all, that night, nor the next, nor the next.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects the tranquility and simplicity of a calm night spent on a river, enjoying nature's beauty.
In this quote, Mark Twain captures a serene experience of drifting down a river, highlighting the quiet joy and solemnity found in nature. The tranquility of the setting allows for deep reflection and a connection to the universe, emphasizing the beauty of peaceful moments shared with others.
Themes
NatureRiverSerenityNightPeacefulness
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech about the benefits of spending time outdoors, one might quote Twain to illustrate the peacefulness of nature.
More from Mark Twain
All quotes →The easy part of being an artist is figuring out the message that everyone else is ready to hear. The hard part is waiting for the proper lull to make the announcement.
Mark TwainRead
You can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns.
Mark TwainRead
To be good is noble; but to show others how to be good is nobler and no trouble.
Mark TwainRead
Name the greatest of all inventors. Accident.
Mark TwainRead
In Paris they just simply opened their eyes and stared when we spoke to them in French! We never did succeed in making those idiots understand their own language.
Mark TwainRead
Similar quotes
How beautifully everything is arranged by Nature; as soon as a child enters the world, it finds a mother ready to take care of it.
Jules MicheletRead
This hill crossed with broken pines and maples lumpy with the burial mounds of uprooted hemlocks (hurricane of '38) out of their rotting hearts generations rise trying once more to become the forest just beyond them tall enough to be called trees in their youth like aspen a bouquet of young beech is gathered they still wear last summer's leaves the lightest brown almost translucent how their stubbornness has decorated the winter woods.
Grace PaleyRead
Sprigs of plum by the corner of the wall_x000D_ _x000D_ Are blooming alone in the cold;_x000D_ _x000D_ If not for the subtle fragrance drifting over_x000D_ _x000D_ Who could tell this from snow on the boughs.
Wang AnshiRead
Never say there is nothing beautiful in the world anymore. There is always something to make you wonder in the shape of a tree, the trembling of a leaf.
Albert SchweitzerRead
All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns.
Oscar WildeRead
Her concern with landscapes and living creatures was passionate. This concern, feebly called, "the love of nature" seemed to Shevek to be something much broader than love. There are souls, he thought, whose umbilicus has never been cut. They never got weaned from the universe. They do not understand death as an enemy; they look forward to rotting and turning into humus. It was strange to see Takver take a leaf into her hand, or even a rock. She became an extension of it, it of her.
Ursula K. Le GuinRead