„In this decayed hole among the mountainsIn the faint moonlight, the grass is singingOver the tumbled graves, about the chapelThere is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home.“

— T.S. Eliot

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„Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.“
— John Muir
„When the wind blows, the grass bends.“
— Confucius
„Going to the mountains is going home.“
— John Muir