If you cut down a forest, it doesn't matter how many sawmills you have if there are no more trees.

Do not be very upright in your dealings for you would see by going to the forest that straight trees are cut down while crooked ones are left standing.

I don't think they can see the forest for the trees.

The No. 1 cause of forest fires is trees.

I imagine how hard it might be to walk down the runway. Me in heels is, like, deforesting the forest, knocking trees, completely 'timber!'

Their life is mysterious, it is like a forest; from far off it seems a unity, it can be comprehended, described, but closer it begins to separate, to break into light and shadow, the density blinds one. Within there is no form, only prodigious detail that reaches everywhere: exotic sounds, spills of sunlight, foliage, fallen trees, small beasts that flee at the sound of a twig-snap, insects, silence, flowers.
And all of this, dependent, closely woven, all of it is deceiving. There are really two kinds of life. There is, as Viri says, the one people believe you are living, and there is the other. It is this other which causes the trouble, this other we long to see.