Quotes About Nature

And your eyes, they were green and grey Like an April day, But lit into amethyst When I stooped and kissed; And your mouth, it would never smile For a long, long while, Then it rippled all over with laughter Five minutes after. You were always afraid of a shower, Just like a flower: I remember you started and ran When the rain began. I remember I never could catch you, For no one could match you, You had wonderful, luminous, fleet, Little wings to your feet.

And now, let us go out on the terrace where 'droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,' while the evening star 'washes the dusk with silver.' At twilight nature becomes a wonderfully suggestive effect, and is not without loveliness, though perhaps its chief use is to illustrate quotations from the poets.

She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses, cried the young Student; but in all my garden there is no red rose.

Lord Henry went out to the garden and found Dorian Gray burying his face in the great cool lilac-blossoms, feverishly drinking in their perfume as if it had been wine.

MRS ARBUTHNOT For me the world is shriveled to a palm's breath, and where I walk there are thorns. HESTER It shall not be so. We shall somewhere find green valleys and fresh waters, and if we weep, well, we shall weep together.

Nature is no great mother who has home us. She is our own creation. It is in our brain that she quickens to life. Things are because we see them, and what we see and how we see it depends on the arts that have influenced us. To look at a thing is very different from seeing a thing. One does not see anything until one sees its beauty.

I can write no stately proem As a prelude to my lay; From a poet to a poem I would dare to say. For if of these fallen petals One to you seem fair, Love will waft it till it settles On your hair. And when wind and winter harden All the loveless land, It will whisper of the garden, You will understand.

What Art really reveals to us is Nature's lack of design, her curious crudities, her extraordinary monotony, her absolutely unfinished condition.  Nature has good intentions, of course, but, as Aristotle once said, she cannot carry them out.

Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with grasses waving up above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace. 'You can help me. You can open for me the portals of Death's house, for Love is always with you, and Love is stronger than Death is.

Like all poetical natures he [Christ] loved ignorant people. He knew that in the soul of one who is ignorant there is always room for a great idea. But he could not stand stupid people, especially those who are made stupid by education: people who are full of opinions not one of which they even understand...

I have a strange longing for the great simple primeval things, such as the sea, to me no less of a mother than the Earth. It seems to me that we all look at Nature too much, and live with her too little.

Worlds had to be in travail, that the meanest flower might blow. . . .

He repeated her name over and over again. The birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her.

Entonces el ruiseñor voló sobre el rosal que crecía alrededor del reloj de sol.

Better to take pleasure in a rose than to put its root under a microscope.

If Nature had been comfortable, mankind would never have invented architecture.

The Lizards were extremely philosophical by nature, and often sat thinking for hours and hours together

Women treat us just as Humanity treats its gods. They worship us, and are always bothering us to do something for them', answered Lord Henry, toying with some fruits. 'I should have said that whatever they ask for they had first given to us,' murmured Dorian Gray, gravely. 'They create Love in our natures. They have a right to demand it bac'k.

Alma e corpo, corpo e alma, como eram misteriosos! Havia animalismo na alma, e o corpo possuía momentos de espiritualidade.

Bronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue wrought by a Grecian, he stood on the sand with his back to the moon, and out of the foam came white arms that beckoned to him, and out of the waves rose dim forms that did him homage. Before him lay his shadow, which was the body of his Soul, and behind him hung the moon in the honey-coloured air.

The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one's self. Of course they are charitable. They feed the hungry, and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked.

Lord Canterville: I feat that the ghost exists . . . and always makes its appearance before the death of any member of our family. Mr. Otis: Well, so does the family doctor for that matter, Lord Canterville. But there is no such thing, sir, as a ghost, and I guess the laws of Nature are not going to be suspended for the British aristocracy.

As he thought of it, a sharp pang of pain struck through him like a knife and made each delicate fibre of his nature quiver.

Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. Worlds