Quotes About Nature

I see a similarity between dogs and me. Dogs are the true observers walking up and down the world thru the Molloy country.

And heard the green birds singing/ from the other side of silence

I am a hill where poets run. I invented the alphabet after watching the flight of cranes who made letters with their legs. I am a lake upon a plain. I am a word in a tree. I am a hill of poetry. I am a raid on the inarticulate. I have dreamt that all my teeth fell out but my tongue lived to tell the tale. For I am a still of poetry. I am a bank of song. I am a playerpiano in an abandoned casino on a seaside esplanade in a dense fog still playing.

I have seen giraffes in junglejims their necks like love wound around the iron circumstances of the world.

Let us arise and go now to the Isle of Manisfree and live the true blue simple life of wisdom and wonderment where all things grow straight up aslant and singing in the yellow sun poppies out of cowpods thinking angels out of turds. I must arise and go now to the Isle of Manisfree way up behind the broken words and woods of Arcady.

There are no endings. If you think so you are deceived as to their nature. They are all beginnings. Here is one. —Hilary Mantel

en la naturaleza de las cosas uno nunca puede intentar escapar a un peligro sin toparse con otro; pero la prudencia consiste en saber cómo reconocer la naturaleza de los distintos peligros y en aceptar el mal menor como la mejor consecuencia».[18]

In the nature of things you can never try to escape one danger without encountering another; but prudence consists in knowing how to recognize the nature of the different dangers and in accepting the least bad as good.

las políticas racionales podían imponerse a la guerra, pero siempre estaban compitiendo con las ciegas fuerzas naturales de la «violencia, el odio y la enemistad»,

I stood up to take some air outside. The stars were brilliant that night, and the cicadas were crying in endless song. If the sky was so perfect, why was the earth all wrong?

But we must not think that just because we have words for all the parts of a tree, a tree really has all those parts. The leaf does not know, for instance, when it stops being a leaf and becomes a twig. And the trunk is not aware that it has stopped being a trunk and has become the roots. Indeed, the roots do not know when they stop being roots and become soil, nor the soil the moisture, nor the moisture the atmosphere, nor the atmosphere the sunlight." (pp 54-55)

But as well as copy-shop piracy, there is another kind of "taking" that is more directly related to the Internet. That taking, too, seems wrong to many, and it is wrong much of the time. Before we paint this taking "piracy," however, we should understand its nature a bit more. For the harm of this taking is significantly more ambiguous than outright copying, and the law should account for that ambiguity, as it has so often done in the past.

Of course, supernatural acts are what miracles are all about. They are, after all, precisely those things that circumvent the laws of nature. A god who can create the laws of nature can presumably also circumvent them at will. Although why they would have been circumvented so liberally thousands of years ago, before the invention of modern communication instruments that could have recorded them, and not today, is still something to wonder about.

Disease was more powerful than armies. Disease was more arbitrary than terrorism. Disease was crueler than human imagination. And yet young people like these doctors were willing to stand in the way of the most fatal force that nature has to offer.

How inadequate we are in our attempts to bring nature under our control, Henry thought. How careless of us to believe that we can manipulate diseases to kill, rather than to cure. We're like schoolchildren playing with matches. One day we'll burn the house down.

We vibrate to the rhythms of our mother's blood before she herself is born...

No man had ever heard a nightingale, When once a keen-eyed naturalist was stirred To study and define -- what is a bird.

In these transparent-clouded, gentle skies, Wherethrough the moist beams of the soft June sun Might any moment break, no sorrow lies, No note of grief in swollen brooks that run, No hint of woe in this subdued, calm tone Of all the prospect unto dreamy eyes.

Then Nature shaped a poet's heart -- a lyre From out whose chords the lightest breeze that blows Drew trembling music, wakening sweet desire.

Sweet empty sky of June without a stain, Faint, gray-blue dewy mists on far-off hills Warm, yellow sunlight flooding mead and plain, That each dark copse and hollow overfills; The rippling laugh of unseen, rain-fed rills, Weeds delicate-flowered, white and pink and gold, A murmur and a singing manifold.

The little and the great are joined in one By God's great force. The wondrous golden sun Is linked unto the glow-worm's tiny spark; The eagle soars to heaven in his flight; And in those realms of space, all bathed in light, Soar none except the eagle and the lark.

Alive the festal air With gauze-winged creatures fair, That flicker everywhere, Dart, poise, and flash along.

From bush and hedge and tree Joy, unrestrained and free, Breaks forth in melody, Twitter and chirp and song.

What modern man wants is a monk's cell, well lit and heated, with a corner from which he may look at the stars. Page 59