Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.
Land is the only thing in the world that amounts to anything, for 'Tis the only thing in this world that lasts, 'Tis the only thing worth working for, worth fighting for — worth dying for.
O lands! O all so dear to me — what you are, I become part of that, whatever it is.
The land was ours before we were the land s. She was our land more than a hundred years before we were her people.
This land is your land and this land is my land, sure, but the world is run by those that never listen to music anyway.
This land is your land, this land is my land, from California to the New York Island. From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream's waters. This land was made for you and me.
To every people the land is given on condition. Perceived or not, there is a Covenant, beyond the constitution, beyond sovereign guarantee, beyond the nation's sweetest dreams of itself.
Topographically the country is magnificent — and terrifying. Why terrifying? Because nowhere else in the world is the divorce between man and nature so complete. Nowhere have I encountered such a dull, monotonous fabric of life as here in America. Here boredom reaches its peak.
You are the land. The land is you.