Sierra Quotes

“Opening yourself up to making mistakes and being vulnerable is what makes it beautiful and special with the person you love.”
― Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry

“Another glorious Sierra day in which one seems to be dissolved and absorbed and sent pulsing onward we know not where. Life seems neither long nor short, and we take no more heed to save time or make haste than do the trees and stars. This is true freedom, a good practical sort of immortality.”
― John Muir, My First Summer in the Sierra

“With someone you like that much, the lows are as low as the highs are high. Does that make sense?'
It does. It also makes me sound bipolar.'
Love will do that to a person.”
― Simone Elkeles

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”
― Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry

“People think what they want. That's what I've had to accept," he says. "I can fight it, but that's exhausting. I can feel hurt about it, but that's torture. Or I can decide it's their loss.”
― Jay Asher, What Light

“Sierra, it's Christmastime. Put a stupid mistletoe over his head and kiss him already!”
― Jay Asher, What Light

“Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, inciting at once to work and rest! Days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. Nevermore, however weary, should one faint by the way who gains the blessings of one mountain day; whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm, he is rich forever.”
― John Muir, My First Summer in the Sierra

“Marland sighed. Her guesses were pretty good, but that was the bulk of her career in a nutshell.”
― Luke Taylor, Evening Wolves

“Then he thought of Marland just now, on the edge of the hill, how the newborn sun flamed over her shoulder, having burned through the fog of the night; how the tops of the trees were beneath her feet and the city of Crescent was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Her face could change like the sky itself and like the sky never lost its radiance and beauty. Sierra Marland was a facade with no end and yet she had been as genuine and true to him as the heavens were blue.”
― Luke Taylor, Evening Wolves

“Her face, as God had made it, was beyond compare.”
― Luke Taylor, Evening Wolves

“Hey, mamacitas! How about you ditch those losers and come with us. We'll show you a real good time," one of them shouts through the window.
"Fuck off," Doug shouts.
One of the guys stumbles out of the car and advances on Doug. Sierra yells something but I'm not paying attention. Instead, I'm watching Alex tear off his jacket and block the guy's path.
"Get out of my way," the guy orders. "Don't lower yourself by protecting this white dick."
Alex stands toe to toe with the guy, the tire iron gripped tightly in his hand. "You fuck with the white dick, you fuck with me. It's that simple. Comprendes, amigo?"
Another guy steps out of the car. We are in some serious trouble.
"Girls, take the keys and get in the car," Alex orders, his tone precise.
"But . . ."
There's a lethal calmness in his eyes. Oh, boy. He's dead serious.
Doug tosses Sierra his car keys. Now what? Are we supposed to sit in the car and watch them fight? "I'm not going anywhere," I tell him.
"Me, either," Sierra says.
A guy in the other car sticks his head out of the window. "Alejo, that you?"
Alex's stance relaxes. "Tiny? What the hell you doin' with these pendejos?"
The guy named Tiny says something in Spanish to his buddies and they jump back into the car. They almost seem relieved they won't have to fight Alex and Doug.
"I'll tell you as soon as you tell me what you're doin' with a bunch of gringos," Tiny says.
Alex chuckles. "Get out of here."
When we're all back in the car, I hear Doug say, "Thanks for having my back."
Alex mumbles, "Don't sweat it.”
― Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry

“When I first enjoyed this superb view, one glowing April day," Jess read aloud, "from the summit of the Pacheco Pass, the Central Valley, but little trampled or plowed as yet, was one furred, rich sheet of golden compositae, and the luminous wall of the mountains shone in all its glory. Then it seemed to me the Sierra should be called not the Nevada, or Snowy Range, but the Range of Light."
Golden compositae, George thought. How easy it was to forget the mountains, just a drive away.”
― Allegra Goodman, The Cookbook Collector