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“But a smell shivered him awake.
It was a scent as old as the world. It was a hundred aromas of a thousand places. It was the tang of pine needles. It was the musk of sex. It was the muscular rot of mushrooms. It was the spice of oak. Meaty and redolent of soil and bark and herb. It was bats and husks and burrows and moss. It was solid and alive - so alive! And it was close.
The vapors invaded Nicholas' nostrils and his hair rose to their roots. His eyes were as heavy as manhole covers, but he opened them. Through the dying calm inside him snaked a tremble of fear.
The trees themselves seemed tense, waiting. The moonlight was a hard shell, sharp and ready to ready be struck and to ring like steel.
A shadow moved.
It poured like oil from between the tall trees and flowed across dark sandy dirt, lengthening into the middle of the ring. Trees seem to bend toward it, spellbound. A long, long shadow...”
― Stephen M. Irwin, The Dead Path

“Our ancestors said to their mother Earth: 'We are yours'. Modern Humanity said to Nature, 'You are mine'. The Green Man has returned as the living face of the whole earth so that through his mouth we may say to the universe: 'We are one'.”
― Sharon Brubaker, The Blossoming

“Being a werewolf, an alpha more so, isn't about being aggressive over others but controlling yourself, the wolf's wild virus inside my DNA, and emotions that comes with the beast.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Putting on the collar is taking charge of unexpected situations. Keeping humans from taking control from me. To tell hunters that I'm not prey. Not a trophy by wearing the collar. I looked at the circlet again. Looking deeper, I see not subjugation, but a tool of power to control my fate in the world of man that symbolizes my ownership over both my nature spirit and wolf-self.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Off Spruce, there was a little known trail. A savage gulley wound through acreage of older residential homes that met up with Green Rock Drive. A natural bouquet gust of wind assaulted me. The domestic and native encroached on each other in a battle for dominance at the edges of the cramped path's undergrowth. The tangy scent of wild onion and sagebrush intermingled with the verdant odor of wild geranium, blue flax, columbine and creeping pussytoes. The wild weeds spiced up the encroaching grass turf and the tamed floral honeysuckle vines and lilac bushes.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Her blue eyes glowed headlight red into my leafy greens. Those eyes were freaky.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Now you're being ridiculous. If your mom changed into a carrot, I'd think she'd change back before someone ate her, werewolf or not.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Fingers you, claws me, crossed hoping Dad sees it that way.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“That did explain his sucky home life growing up but didn’t excuse the way he treated others. Was there childcare for abused werewolves?”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Was there childcare for abused werewolves?”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Be careful. The conditions are treacherous with mud-sucking tentacles pulling shoes and socks into the murky bottom while smearing grime on those who passed by.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Her wild race caused the dried-up ferns, thorny plants, and low-hung tree branches—away from the lake—to grab at our clothing in the mad dash over the narrow packed dirt through the trees.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“My nerves did a jitter dance, stuck between two wolves.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“My nerves did a jitter dance,”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“I got a whiff of minty fresh breath. Definitely not, what I'd expect from a wild wolf.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Maybe it's a green thing or a wolf thing or a short-circuit thing. I don’t seem to know anything.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“His eyes forward didn’t deviate from the off-road trail, his chiseled jaw gripped shut during the ride. He didn’t release any sound of explanation until we arrived.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“No electricity, fridge, TV or game console. I guess changing from human was enough fun and games for werewolves.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“I swear it looked like she wanted her words to slither around us and go out the door unheard.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Yes, Dad collared me before I was even born. Nevertheless, he made me the one in authority of the collar and myself.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Keeping her in her roots of greenness.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Looking deeper, I see not subjugation, but a tool of power to control my fate in the world of man that symbolizes my ownership over both my nature spirit and wolf-self.”
― Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Suddenly the zephyr kicked up the leaves as well, and Sylvia saw something like a great, green angel arise in the spot where the mask had lain. Sylvia stood frozen to the spot watching as a face of living wood took shape from the mask-like object and rose over six feet with the leaves flowing over limbs.”
― Sharon Brubaker, The Greening

“You can make a place magical by ridding it of the things that make it ordinary”
― Nina Lyon, Uprooted: On the Trail of the Green Man

“The Green Man had stepped into the fire smiling a warm, yet wry smile on his brown face of living wood. She had watched his tall body, which was covered in rich brocade made of leaves, with a crown of holly bright with scarlet berries on his head, disappear into the leaping flames as though they were a cozy blanket. He was gone in a flash as the tall flames engulfed him with a loud whoosh. Tears had coursed down her cheeks while others cheered the onset of the solstice and toasted the beginning of longer days.”
― Sharon Brubaker, The Leafing

“Sam scrutinized Mr. Khadir’s face. It expressed kindliness and gentleness, as well as mischievousness and fierceness. He stood about five feet ten inches with a pale-skinned complexion. His long softly curly hair, slightly graying at the temples, was parted in the middle, and went to the bottom of his neck. He had a hooked nose over which rose a prominent brow ridge. His eyes wee penetrating like an eagle’s. He held a sing rose in his hand. Although, Sam couldn’t se it, a drop of green blood lay on his hand where one of the thorns had pierced his skin. A hint of a smile was on his face and he seemed restless. He said nothing but looked at Sam expectantly.
‘I’m tired of seeking. My life is empty, and that’s just fine with me,� Sam declared emphatically.
‘If you feel with all your being that you are empty, then I advise you to try once more,� Mr. Khadir gently replied.
‘Mr. Khadir wore a jewel around his neck, a large emerald. It was remarkably similar to a jewel Sam’s mother used to wear. Something about the sight of the emerald touched Sam deeply within his soul. Sam took it as a sign that he should take Mr. Khadir up on his invitation. Sam knew there was no such thing as coincidence.
Finally, the homeless man answered his enigmatic visitor, ‘I will follow you if you will teach me the Right Way.�
‘You will not be able to bear patiently with me, for how can you experience true patience concerning events about which you lack full knowledge?� Mr. Khadir answered turning away.
The panic Sam felt that the stranger might leave him behind surprised him. He was already following Khadir toward the service road as he replied, ‘You will find me, if God wills, patient and obedient to your mystic teaching.�
Mr. Khadir said softly, ‘Then yes, I will teach you. When your poverty is complete, you will be God. But I must warn you: even if you see me doing strange things, acting foolishly, childishly � you must bear with me and attend to it all. Woe to you if you turn away.�
‘Where are we going?� Same wanted to know.
‘Allah knows best,â€� Mr. Khadir replied.”
― Laurence Galian, The Sun at Midnight: The Revealed Mysteries of the Ahlul Bayt Sufis

“Khezr, the Green Man of Sufism, has been the Immortal Ruler of Hyperborea, the King of the World, Alexander's cook, Hermes Trismegistus, discoverer of the Fountain of Youth, and the Prophets Enoch, Idris and Elijah. If he was Hermes Trismegistus, then this whole tale of Moses and Khezr rendezvous where the two waters meet took place inside one person!”
― Laurence Galian, The Sun at Midnight: The Revealed Mysteries of the Ahlul Bayt Sufis

“When you say the name of Khezr (or Khadir) in company you should always add the greeting "Salaam aliekum!" since he may be there - immortal and anonymous, engaged on some mysterious karmic errand. Perhaps he'll hint of his identity by wearing green, or by revealing knowledge of the occult and hidden. But he's something of a spy, and if you have no need to know he's unlikely to tell you. Still, one of his functions is to convince skeptics of the existence of the marvelous, to rescue those who are lost in deserts of doubt and dryness. So he's needed now more than ever, and surely still moves among us playing his great game.”
― Peter Lamborn Wilson, Sacred Drift: Essays on the Margins of Islam