Quotes About Nature

Wildness dances Inhibition stumbles

All dress is fancy dress, is it not, except our natural skins?

A nudist is simply a human being without artificial additives.

You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds...

I wandered lonely as a Cloud That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills...

He'd lie in fields, And through his fingers watch the changing clouds, Those playful fancies of the mighty sky.

Clouds: Clusters of fluted sea-shells, Coral fringed, pearl centered; The glory of the setting sun caught in their fragile rims. Above clear-cut cliffs of alabaster whiteness Is the pale globe of the full moon; The changing clouds are bits of silvered fluff Adrift in a sea of intense blue.

When scattered clouds are resting on the bosoms of hills, it seems as if one might climb into the heavenly region, earth being so intermixed with sky, and gradually transformed into it.

Massive rolling waves of white-gray clouds chase the warm afternoon across a deep blue sky.

When clouds appear like rocks and towers, the earth's refreshed by frequent showers.

Deep black, brown, and gray cloud banks were shifting across the sky like tumbleweed across the plains.

The English winter — ending in July, To recommence in August...

Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell.

And as passion is the foundation of courage, such warlike natures, whether of men or animals, will be full of passion.

A critic would sacrifice the entire rose to find fault with the thorn.

The genius, even when he endeavours only to entertain with pleasing images of nature, or instruct by uncontested principles of science, yet suffers persecution from innumerable criticks, whose acrimony is excited merely by the pain of seeing others pleased, and of hearing applauses which another enjoys.

The tear, down Childhood's cheek that flows, Is like the dew-drop on the rose; When next the summer breeze comes by, And waves the bush, the flower is dry...

Whoever needs milk, bows to the animal.

A millennium without air or light pollution made for pitch-black skies. The stars didn't just appear anymore. They exploded. Diamonds on black velvet. You couldn't tear your eyes away.

...the smoke-smuggered stars...

Must read, or sit in reverie and watch The changing color of the waves that break Upon the idle seashore of the mind!

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow, and I shall be in them.

life blooms right through death and they beautify each other

When he died, Daddy went to the Wildlands for sure... He rode a tornado to get there.