Quotes About Nature

afternoon in canoes on the Mississippi, watching turtles basking on logs in the golden sunlight.

Hermione was back, holding out a gossamer dress of rainbow chiffon so airy I thought of fireflies on a moonlight night.

We slid along water reds and greens, the changing lights captured in the canvas of wet tar.

Lacy little green fronds waved up through clear liquid; it reminded me of a forest stream in early spring, just after the ice has melted. I picked up a frond, and as I put it in my mouth, I experienced a moment of cool, pure freshness. What is it? I asked Jake, enchanted. Mozuku, a special kind of seaweed from Okinawa. You don't think it's slimy? Slippery, but I love the way it feels in my mouth.

He turned on to the track and wondered why no birds were singing. The only sound he could hear was the buzz and rattle of a drill, which he assumed to be the farmer doing something to a fence. It was, in fact, a woodpecker whose presence would have thrilled him had he known what it was.

The trouble with psychology, said Wexford epigrammatically, 'is that it doesn't take human nature into account.

newer here? There were no dense brambles

And if one had a sorrow, Maine was the best place to be.

It wasn't just catching mackerel that made those dawns red-letter days for us. It was like watching the world being created anew to watch the sun come up -the orange streak changing to flames -orange, yellow, crimson; to watch the whole bay catch the glory of it – to watch the western sky take fire. People who don't ever watch sunrises miss a lot of wonder.

It was pretty fishing. The brook was edged with fern and birch and sassafras and shadbush. The rocks had different kinds of moss. There were lots of birds, warblers, nuthatches and thrushes. Ever catch a speckled beauty of a trout while a hermit thrush sang? Well-it's something you always remember.

I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden.

If you have the soul of a gardener, not for anything would you work with gloves on.

They will come back, come back again, As long as the red earth rolls. He never wasted a leaf or a tree. Do you think he would squander souls?

Memories are't like words; they're soft and gooey. Covered with a sticky slime, like a penis after sex, or your vagina when you menstruate, and shaped like tadpoles or tiny watersnakes

Hey, take a good look, isn't the world still under your feet? I'm on this ground, and on this same ground are trees and grass and ants carrying sand to their nests, little girls chasing rolling balls, and puppies running. This ground runs under countless houses and mountains and rivers and seas, under everywhere. And I'm on it. Don't be scared, I'd told myself, the world is still under me.

It is the situation, the circumstances, the context, that decide whether we see a person as enemy or as partner at any given moment. The Other can be both of these, and that is the basis of his changeable, elusive nature, his contradictory behaviour, whose motives he himself is sometimes incapable of understanding.

The land is sacred. The land gives people life, and that which gives life is sacred.

Ci segnala subito che ci troviamo in un punto della terra dove una biologia esuberante e instancabile lavora, produce, prolifera e fiorisce senza sosta e senza sosta si ammala, si decompone, si tarla e marcisce.

Whoever has weapons, has food. Whoever has food, has power. We are here among people who do not contemplate transcendence and the existence of soul, the meaning of life and the nature of being. We are in a world in which man, crawling on the earth, tries to dig a few grains of wheat out of the mud, just to survive another day.

Dawn and Dusk - these are the most pleasant hours in Africa. The sun is either not yet scorching, or it is no longer so - it lets you be, lets you live.

As I stood alone and forsaken, and the power of the sea and the battle of the elements reminded me of my own nothingness, and on the other hand, the sure flight of the birds recalled the words spoken by Christ: Not a sparrow shall fall on the ground without your Father: then, all at once, I felt how great and how small I was; then did those two mighty forces, pride and humility, happily unite in friendship.

Boredom is the root of all evil. It is very curious that boredom, which itself has such a calm and sedate nature, can have such a capacity to initiate motion. The effect that boredom brings about is absolutely magical, but this effect is one not of attraction but of repulsion.

People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence and they think they have seen something.

The majority of men are curtailed I's; what was planned by nature as a possibility capable of being sharpened into an I is soon dulled into a third person.