Quotes About Nature

The beautiful is in nature, and it is encountered under the most diverse forms of reality. Once it is found it belongs to art, or rather to the artist who discovers it.

Art will never be able to exist without nature.

Flee laziness which while it produces an immediate delight, ends in the sorrow of repentance. And know that nature without exercise is a seed shut up in the pod, and art without practice is nothing.

I like to cook, walk on the beach, go to concerts and look at fine art.

This wild swan of a world is no hunter's game.

It is not what an artist does that counts...but what he is.

The artist is the lover of nature; therefore he is her slave and her master.

A Locanian having plucked all the feathers off from a nightingale and seeing what a little body it had, "surely," quoth he, "thou art all voice and nothing else.

Among the language of the American Indians, there is no word for 'art'... For Indians, everything is art... therefore needs no name.

The counterfeit and counterpart of Nature is reproduced in art.

Techniques vary, art stays the same; it is a transposition of nature at once forceful and sensitive.

You are welcome to your intellectual pastimes and books and art and newspapers; welcome, too, to your bars and your whisky that only makes me ill. Here am I in the forest, quite content.

The naturalist picked up the eagle and said to it, "Thou dost belong to the sky and not to this earth; stretch forth thy wings and fly."

This is the river of the great 19th-century landscapists; of Cole, Cropsey and Church, and at the end of the summer it lies motionless under the haze as under a light coat of varnish.

I am a result of what has happened on this planet - how could I find the art to say that? I can't, and yet, I am drawn to it because of the enormity of it. That seems really important.

We by art unteach what Nature taught.

If I ever have a conflict between art and nature, I let art win.

The moving accident is not my trade; To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.

One day, in the San Francisco walk, he came upon some badly painted figures and observed that good painters imitate nature but bad ones vomit it forth.

The climax of absurdity to which art may be carried when led away from nature by fashion, may be best seen in the works of Boucher.

Be natural my children. For the writer that is natural has fulfilled all the rules of art.

Learn of the green world what can be thy place In scaled invention or true artistry

To thee, fair Freedom! I retire From flattery, cards, and dice, and din: Nor art thou found in mansions higher Than the low cot, or humble inn.

Art is form struggling to wake from the nightmare of nature.