Quotes About Nature

comportamiento de un héroe hay casi siempre algo ciego, irracional, instintivo, algo que está en su naturaleza y a lo que no puede escapar. Además, se puede ser una persona decente durante toda una vida, pero no se puede ser sublime sin interrupción, y por eso el héroe sólo lo es excepcionalmente, en un momento o, a lo sumo, en una temporada de locura o inspiración.

era un católico de misa diaria, un hombre lleno de buenas intenciones y un creyente en la bondad natural del ser humano. En definitiva, un sujeto peligroso.

Oh, we're human, all right," she said. "Humans have always been very good at killing.

Water never disappears forever. It flows back into the sea, becomes rain, forms a river, fills a pond, or cascades down a mountain. In one way or another, it always returns. —"On the Way of Water," from the journal of Hayden Stone

The approaching storm turns the surface of the sea to steel and silver. Only danger reflects clearly from such a mirror.

forces of nature. A man either ran for

Grandma always said that people don't change, at least not way down deep inside where it counts.

Le jardin dormait encore. Je l'ai surpris, nourrice. Je l'ai vu sans qu'il s'en doute. C'est beau un jardin qui ne pense pas encore aux hommes.

In order to understand the intensity of ritual forms, one must rid oneself of the idea that all happiness derives from nature, and all pleasure from the satisfaction of a desire. On the contrary, games, the sphere of play, reveal a passion for rules, a giddiness born of rules, and a force that comes from ceremony, and not desire.

The anxiety specific to leisure and the Coast. Too many forms of natural beauty artificially brought together. Too many villas, too many flowers. Villegiatura, nomenklatura: the same struggle. The same artificial privilege, whether it be that of the political bureaucracy or the luxuriance of lifestyle. Nature putrefied by leisure, purged of all barbarity, sickeningly comfortable - one day perhaps this dream climate, this heatwave of luxury will explode into one last forest fire.

Il faudrait apprendre à son âme à marcher pieds nus.

I heard you humming." "Yes," he said. "I hum a great deal. Can you hum? Yes, I replied. I can hum. I hum a good deal, too, and even sing, especially when I get out of the spring in the morning. Then I really sing aloud. Let's hear you sing aloud. So I said, feeling very relaxed with the sun shining on my head, All right, I'll sing you my cold water song.

The climate warmed. Wild grasses, flowers and trees took root in the land behind the huge rock. In time, their growing and dying made deep rich loam on which a magnificent forest grew. Into the forest came bear, deer, brightly colored birds, and the Pawtuxets, a tribe of the Wampanoag, The People of the Dawn.

Jean Craighead George

Fortunately, the sun has a wonderfully glorious habit of rising every morning.

Fortunately, the sun has a wonderfully glorious habit of rising every morning. When

raccoons or skunks about in the snow, but the mice, the weasels, the mink, the foxes, the shrews, the cottontail rabbits were all busier than Coney Island in July. Their tracks were all over the mountain, and their activities ranged from catching each other

Better to run to the woods than the city, I thought. Here, there is the world to occupy the mind.

I don't believe that Nature's powers Have tied her hands or pinioned ours, By marking on the heavenly vault Our fate without mistake or fault. That fate depends on conjunctions Of places, persons, times, and tracks, And not on the functions Of more or less of quacks.

vireos serenading us, drinking water straight from the Lake, eating late-season wild raspberries, and dozing beneath

I have always hated crowds. I like deserts, prisons, and monasteries. I have discovered, too, that there are fewer idiots at 3000 meters above sea level than down below.

Remember, all of man's happiness is in the little valleys. Tiny little ones. Small enough to call from one side to the other.

Everything was frozen up and silent that morning. Even the wind was silent, but not really dead. It waved about a little and beat its tail gently against the hard sky. There was no sun yet. The sky was empty. It was all frozen up, like a sheet hanging out in the frost.

Nous sommes trop vêtus de villes et de murs. Nous avons trop l'habitude de nous voir sous notre forme antinaturelle... Nous ne savons plus que nous sommes des animaux libres...