Quotes About Nature

I was born to find goblins in their caves / And chase moonlight / To see shadows and seek hidden rivers / To hear the rain fall on dry leaves / And chat a bit with death across foggy nights.

Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only change of worlds.

Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.

For one species to mourn the death of another is a new thing under the sun.

In the garden I will die. In the rosebush they will kill me.

Ere the dolphin dies Its hues are brightest. Like an infant's breath Are tropic winds before the voice of death.

The real question is, do you root for the fox in that song? Or are you horrified that the goose and the duck are being dragged off to their death, which is described in detail?

Death's a fierce meadowlark: but to die having made / Something more equal to the centuries / Than muscle and bone, is mostly to shed weakness.

Death, lonely death, Beneath the withered leaves.

Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.

That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again and ever again, this soiled world.

In each thing there is an insinuation of death. Stillness, silence, serenity are all apprenticeships.

death should be celebrated...when you put something in the ground you always know where it is

The woods, the streams, the snow, the thaw, the spring, New England's spring, that surprise that is among the greatest reinvigorators of humankind on record.

Only rarely, at the end of our century, does life offer up a vision as pure and peaceful as this one: a solitary man on a bucket, fishing through eighteen inches of ice in a lake that's constantly turning over its water atop an arcadian mountain in America.

é straziante la violenza, quando scoppia in una casa: come vedere i vestiti su un albero dopo un'esplosione. puoi essere pronto a vedere la morte, ma non i vestiti sull'albero. E tutto per il fatto che mio padre non riusciva a capire che la natura di Alvin non era mai stata riformabile, nonostante i predicozzi e le minacce che l'affetto gli ispirava: tutto perché lo aveva preso in casa per salvarlo da ciò che semplicemente era nella sua natura diventare.

O my America of the plains and the mountains and the valleys and the rivers and the canyons... It is with j'ust such patriotic incantations as these that I have begun to put myself to sleep at night, after jerking off into my sock.

More meaning than was necessary was in the nature of things.

It is the American pastoral par excellence and it lasts twenty-four hours.

The Swede had loved that story all his life. Who wrote it? Nobody, as far as he could remember. They'd just studied it in grade school. Johnny Appleseed, out there everywhere planting apple trees. That bag of seeds. I loved that bag.

It was puzzling to own trees—they were not owned the way a business is owned or even a house is owned. If anything, they were held in trust. In trust. Yes, for all of posterity

I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful — faery's child, Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild.

For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.

Women and men(both little and small) cared for anyone not at all they sowed their isn't they reaped their same sun moon stars rain children guessed(but only a few and down they forgot as up they grew