Quotes About Nature

The great secret of medicine, known to doctors but still hidden from the public, is that most things get better by themselves.

The central task of science is to arrive, stage by stage, at a clearer comprehension of nature, but this does not at all mean, as it is sometimes claimed to mean, a search for mastery over nature.

We are a spectacular, splendid manifestation of life. We have language. . . . We have affection We have genes for usefulness, and usefulness is about as close to a 'common goal' of nature as I can guess at. And finally, and perhaps best of all, we have music.

We should credit [the sky] for what it is: for sheer size and perfection of function, it is far and away the grandest product of collaboration in all of nature.

Men were only made into "men" with great difficulty even in primitive society: the male is not naturally "a man" any more than the woman. He has to be propped up into that position with some ingenuity, and is always likely to collapse.

Palace women like blossoms filled springtime galleries here. There's nothing left now--only quail breaking into flight.

A river town. The autumn rain has stopped. Our wine is gone. So, farewell!

All the birds have flown up and gone; A lonely cloud floats leisurely by. We never tire of looking at each other-- Only the mountain and I.

Before my bed, the moon is shining bright, I think that it is frost upon the ground. I raise my head and look at the bright moon. I lower my head and think of home.

It's long since I've gone to the East Mountains. How many seasons have the tiny roses bloomed? White clouds - unblown - fall apart. In whose court has the bright moon dropped?

All this is gone forever - events, men. everything slips away, like the ceaseless waves of the Yangtze that vanish into the sea.

STAYING THE NIGHT AT A MOUNTAIN TEMPLE The high tower is a hundred feet tall, From here one's hand could pluck the stars. I do not dare to speak in a loud voice, I fear to disturb the people in heaven.

Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly, And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking. Which was the real - the butterfly or the man ? Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things? The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea Returns in time to the shallows of a transparent stream. The man, raising melons outside the green gate of the city, Was once the Prince of the East Hill. So must rank and riches vanish. You know it, still you toil and toil - what for?

Drunk we lie down in empty hills,heaven and earth our quilt and pillow.

The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older.

We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.

You ask why I make my home in the mountain forest, and I smile, and am silent, and even my soul remains quiet: it lives in the other world which no one owns. The peach trees blossom, The water flows.

The birds have vanished into the sky and now the last cloud drains away. We sit together the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.

A pity it is evening, yet I do love the water of this spring seeing how clear it is, how clean; rays of sunset gleam on it, lighting up its ripples, making it one with those who travel the roads; I turn and face the moon; sing it a song, then listen to the sound of the wind amongst the pines.

The birds have vanished down the sky. Now the last cloud drains away. We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.

Green mountains rise to the north; white water rolls past the eastern city. Once it has been uprooted, the tumbleweed travels forever. Drifting clouds like a wanderer's mind; sunset, like the heart of your old friend. We turn, pause, look back and wave, Even our ponies look back and whine.

My little boat is made of ebony; My flute stops are pure gold. Water loosens stains from silk; Wine loosens sadness from the heart. With good wine, a graceful boat, And a sweet girl's love, Why be jealous of mere gods?

For all of nature's wonder and beauty, it is also hostile and unpredictable.

It was as hot as ever, even the turn of the moon bringing no relief, and the cries of cicadas fell like showers around me.