Quotes About Nature

you can't fart without changing the balance in the universe.

Recordó que en su infancia había alcanzado a comprobar la extinción de una especie tras otra. Los periódicos anunciaban un día la desaparición de los zorros, el siguiente la de los tejones, hasta que la g ente dejó por último de leer aquellos perpetuos obituarios.

Jamás había pensado en la semejanza entre los animales eléctricos y los andrillos. Un animal eléctrico era una forma inferior, un robot de menor calidad.

That there is no perfect defense. There is no protection. Being alive means being exposed; it's the nature of life to be hazardous—it's the stuff of living.

Non turbare la tua pace interiore, niente è giusto o sbagliato, non si vince né si perde. Esistono solo gli individui e ognuno di essi è solo. Completamente solo! Impara a essere solo, guarda gli uccelli, volano ma non parlano a nessuno del loro volo né si preoccupano di conservarne il ricordo per raccontarlo in futuro. ... Lascia che la tua vita rimanga un segreto perché è segreta

Because when the death-dealing powers of ice and cold reach your loins, your breasts and hips and buttocks as well as your heart—it was already deep in her heart, surely—then there will be no more woman. And you won't survive that. No matter what I or any man chooses to do.

Exactly what powers of hell feed on: the best instincts in man.

If this place were closer to Terra there'd be empty beer cans and plastic plates strewn around. The trees would be gone. There'd be old jet motors in the water. The beaches would stink to high heaven. Terran Development would have a couple of million little plastic houses set up everywhere.

Tripping across a country pasture with Junie Black... spreading out a blanket on the hot, dry hillside, among the smells of grass and afternoon sun. No, not there. Is that gone, too? Hollow outward form instead of substance; the sun not actually shining, the day not actually warm at all but cold, gray and quietly raining.

Of course you're a worm. We're all worms—grubby worms creeping over the crust of the Earth, through dust and dirt.

Outside, a bug on tall legs picked through the heaps. It ate, and then something squashed it and went on, leaving it squashed with its dead teeth sunk into what it had wanted to eat. Finally its dead teeth got up and crawled out of its mouth in different directions.

What does it mean, to die? he wondered. Uniqueness always perishes. Nature works by overproducing each species; uniqueness is a fault, a failure of nature. For survival there should be hundreds, thousands, even millions of one species, all interchangeable—if all but one dies, then nature has won. Generally it loses. But himself. I am unique, he realized. So I am doomed, Every man is unique and hence doomed. A melancholy thought.

The drive of unliving things is stronger than the drive of living things.

I wish I'd become a plant earlier.

All his life he had controlled machines, bent nature and the forces of nature to man and man's needs. The human race had slowly evolved until it was in a position to operate things, run them as it saw fit. Now all at once it had been plunged back down the ladder again, prostrate before a Power against which they were children.

There is evil in the best of us, of course; but perhaps just a little bit more in the worst of us.

Loneliness clarifies. Here silence stands Like heat. Here leaves unnoticed thicken, Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken, Luminously-peopled air ascends; And past the poppies bluish neutral distance Ends the land suddenly beyond a beach Of shapes and shingle. Here is unfenced existence: Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach.

Deprivation is for me what daffodils were for Wordsworth.

Sargon grew up as a gardener

We feel cold, but we don't mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn't feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It's worth being cold for that.

Lonely? I don't know. They tell me this is cold. I don't know what cold is, because I don't freeze. So I don't know what lonely means either. Bears are made to be solitary.

Symbols and emblems were everywhere. Buildings and pictures were designed to be read like books. Everything stood for something else; if you had the right dictionary, you could read Nature itself. It was hardly surprising to find philosophers using the symbolism of their time to interpret knowledge that came from a mysterious source.

his face bore an expression that mingled haughty disdain with a tender, ardent sympathy, as if he would love all things if only his nature could let him forget their defects.

The evening sky was awash with peach, apricot, cream: tender little ice-cream clouds in a wide orange sky.