Quotes About Nature

It's not just what she does. It's what she is. Feral, and for her the moon's always full.

Changing it without damaging it. If you cut down a tree, is what you're putting in its place worth the sacrifice?

I go to Ireland. Walk along an empty beach. When I do, I think of all the people who have walked there before, and will walk there again. Then it occurs to me nothing is forever. No matter how bad or how good, everything passes and moves on to another level.

Hayley could see trees whipping in the wind and the bruised fists of clouds that smothered the sky.

Mulheres... sejam de que mundo forem, não deixam de ser previsíveis.

A life of sunrises and lilacs, of friends and quiet moments. And a really good dog.

driven out. The cougar and the wolf stay, but

the land goes on no matter who walks on it

It wasn't really a walk, she thought as she wound through rosebushes and the heavy scent of gardenia. It was more of a meander. No hurry, no destination, no problems.

To be happy at home is the ultimate result of all ambition Ã¢â'¬Â¦ —SAMUEL JOHNSON The voice is a wild thing. It can't be bred in captivity. —WILLA CATHER

We are not the stuff that abides, but patterns that perpetuate themselves.

The Second Law is also known as the Law of Entropy

which is a fancy way of saying that nature tends to bring things to disorder.

The Law of Causality does not say that everything needs a cause. It says that everything that comes to be needs a cause.

Romans 2:14–15 (see Ephesians 2:3)—How can those who are by nature sinners keep God's laws of nature?

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.

As a Scot and a Presbyterian, my father believed that man by nature was a mess and had fallen from an original state of grace. Somehow, I early developed the notion that he had done this by falling from a tree. As for my father, I never knew whether he believed God was a mathematician but he certainly believed God could count and that only by picking up God's rhythms were we able to regain power and beauty. Unlike many Presbyterians, he often used the word beautiful.

What a beautiful world it was once. At least a river of it was.

On the Big Blackfoot River above the mouth of Belmont Creek the banks are fringed by large Ponderosa pines. In the slanting sun of late afternoon the shadows of great branches reached from across the river, and the trees took the river in their arms. The shadows continued up the bank, until they included us

Ahead and to the west was our ranger station - and the mountains of Idaho, poems of geology stretching beyond any boundaries and seemingly even beyond the world.

Poets talk about "spots of time," but it is really fishermen who experience eternity compressed into a moment. No one can tell what a spot of time is until suddenly the whole world is a fish and the fish is gone.

I did not know that stories of life are often more like rivers than books.

In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing.

I am haunted by waters.