Quotes About Nature

Before him, numberless lovers smiled and talked. And death was observed with sudden cries, And birth with laughter and pain. And the trees grew taller and blacker against the skies And night came down again.

while daisies burn like stars on the darkened hill.

Is it a comb, a fan, a torn dress, a curtain, a bed, an empty rice-bin? It hardly seems to matter. The Chinese poet makes a heart-breaking poetry out of these quite as naturally as Keats did out of the song of a nightingale heard in a spring garden. It is rarely dithyrambic, rarely high-pitched: part of its charm is its tranquility, its self-control. And the humblest reads it with as much emotion as the most learned.

The moon rose, and the moon set; And the stars rushed up and whirled and set; And again they swarmed, after a shaft of sunlight; And the dark blue dusk closed above him, like an ocean of regret.

And what good did it do? Squirrel and other vermin reckoned you hid grain in the ground just to dare them could they find it and dig it out.

As far as the eye could reach, this lonely forest sea rolled on and on till its faint blue billows broke against an incredibly distant horizon.

That's how life was, death and birth, grub and harvest, rain and clearing, winter and summer. You had to take one with the other, for that's the way it ran. The characters and situations in this work are wholly fictional and imaginary, and do not portray and are not intended to portray any actual persons or parties.

Where have you gone, O noble lords of the plain? Time has erased your footprints with the passing seasons' rain. Your voices have now been silenced to no longer echo in the hills. The battles are but memories when you watched your lifeblood spill. It is we who are the losers; it is we who bear the shame. O mighty Blackfoot warrior, only your legend remains the same. Constance O'Banyon

Morning Sea Let me stop right here. Let me, too, have a look at nature: the morning sea and the cloudless sky, both a luminous blue, the yellow shore, all of it beautiful, and in such magnificent light. Let me stop right here. Let me pretend this is actually what I'm seeing (I really did see it, when I first stopped) and not, here too, more of those fantasies of mine, more of those memories, those voluptuous illusions.

There's nothing like coming home here, having the day off or morning off and going surfing. In Orlando I don't know what I would do.

I'd say that animal rights and environmental issues have always been at the forefront of my mind.

Art is about expressing the true nature of the human spirit in whatever way one wishes to express it. If it is honest, it is beautiful. If it is not honest, it is obvious.

The cause-effect sequences in our brains are just as determining, just as inescapable, as anywhere else in Nature.

When the lambs is lost in the mountain, he said. They is cry. Sometime come the mother. Sometime the wolf.

Nihilism is a natural consequence of a culture (or civilization) ruled and regulated by categories that mask manipulation, mastery and domination of peoples and nature.

We're beings toward death, we're featherless, two-legged, linguistically-conscious creatures born between urine and feces whose body will one day be the culinary delight of terrestrial worms. That's us.

THE WONDERFUL EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER.

God is great and God is good, but God is also elusive and unpredictable,

of Bloemendaal was said to be one of the most beautiful in Holland. I had never seen it, only the trees at

All secrets become deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets.

Tonight, God was showing off, as pink and blue melded into purple, touched with a warm orange glow and the outline of the clouds, the fields, and the dusty road that seemed to stretch out in front of them forever

There is a drop of blood in the snow before me.... The coyote... is in estrus.... spurred to let out a bit of herself, sending a message, telling everyone she was now ready, that the clock of her winter was ticking toward spring.

I rise and turn back.... leaving the rest of the world to coyotes who are now running across the mountain together, howling and yipping behind me, calling for the frozen night to come.

Water becomes filthy with desire as it gains speed into a flood. It cannot move in a straight line.... There is too much craving and energy when water moves. It wants out.