Quotes About Nature

Mares had the capability to slow birthing so that the foal would have the dark hours to find its feet and be ready to run from a predator by dawn.

We are taught early here to see Nature as a foe to be subdued. But I came, by stages, to worship it. You could say that for me, this island and her bounties became the first of my false gods, the original sin that begot so much idolatry.

Mature trees, bark lacquered black, fingered upward. The twigs formed fine black traceries against the white sky. They reminded Jarret of pencil lines on snowy canvas.

Wildness and wet . . . let them be left . . . ' " " 'Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

Almighty God created sexual desire in ten parts; then he gave nine parts to women and one to men." —Ali ibn Abu Taleb, husband of Muhammad's daughter Fatima and founder of the Shiite sect of Islam

Her gardens, in particular, are highly regarded.

So it is, out here on this island, where we dwell with our faces to the sea and our backs to the wilderness. Like Adam's family after the fall, we all have things to do.

The ones he bred there in the desert, their bodies changed—or changed back, I should say. Their chests expanded from the effort of running in the sand, their eyelashes thickened to keep the fine particles out.

some half-dozen children running in the fields or about the wetus—fewer

This is what I write to her: The clouds tonight embossed the sky.

Mother Nature may be forgiving this year, or next year, but eventually she's going to come around and whack you. You've got to be prepared.

It is the dull urban blight beyond them that is most likely to be bulldozed away in the next century, to be replaced by greenbelts, botanical parks,

Margaret, are you grievingOver Goldengrove unleaving?

World-mothering air, air wild,Wound with thee, in thee isled,Fold home, fast fold thy child.

What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet, Long live the weeds and the wildness yet.

Glory be to God for dappled things.

And I have asked to beWhere no storms come,Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,And out of the swing of the sea.

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame.

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring—When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.

What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs— Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring- When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing; The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling. (From "Spring")

No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear, Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.