At this sunset hour, the canyon walls are indescribably…

I waited for the train at Coventry; I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, To watch the three tall spires; and there…

— Alfred Lord Tennyson

May your rivers flow without end... down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and…

— Edward Abbey

“Technically, I entered Mawrth Vallis yesterday. But I only knew that by looking at a map. The entrance to the valley is wide enough…

— Andy Weir

Well, once you've been in the Canyon and once you've sort of fallen in love with it, it never ends...it's always been a fascinating…

— Barry Goldwater

There is a great deal more correctness of thought respecting manhood in bodily things than in moral things. For men's ideas of manhood shape…

— Henry Ward Beecher

How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains! To behold this alone is worth the pains of any excursion a thousand times over.…

— John Muir

What do we plant when we plant a tree? A thousand things that we daily see, We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,…

— Henry Abbey

A transition from an author's book to his conversation is too often like an entrance into a large city, after a distant prospect. Remotely,…

— Samuel Johnson

Strange that so few ever come to the woods to see how the pine lives and grows and spires, lifting its evergreen arms to…

— Henry David Thoreau

Into my hear an air that kills through yon far country blows what are those blue remembered hills what spires,what farms are those? that…

— A. E. Housman

The eastern light our spires touch at morning, The light that slants upon our western doors at evening, The twilight over stagnant pools at…

— T. S. Eliot

For the machine meant the conquest of horizontal space. It also meant a sense of that space which few people had experienced before –…

— Robert Hughes

“These spires above my house are doves, lifted by grace above the earth's eruption.”

— Jay Wright

The weathercocks on spires and housetops were mysterious with hints of stormy wind, and pointed, like so many ghostly fingers, out to dangerous seas,…

— Charles Dickens

Many men build as cathedrals are built-the part nearest the ground finished, but that part which soars toward heaven, the turrets and the spires,…

— Henry Ward Beecher