Quotes About Nature

Few things are begun with as much hope as a garden, and it can disappoint in direct proportion to one's anticipation.

A garden always includes many smaller gardens. Indeed, no garden exists as a single thing. By its nature, it is plural, just as each person is a symposium of cells, or an arch is a strength made from many weaknesses.

I believe in God,' Frank Lloyd Wright said, only I spell it Nature. Gardeners spend much of their time kneeling in postures of prayer.

I swear I will not dishonor my soul with hatred, but offer myself humbly as a guardian of nature, as a healer of misery, as a messenger of wonder, as an architect of peace.

Nature is a living system, so sacred That those who use it profanely Will surely lose it; And to lose nature Is to lose ourselves." (Tao Te Ching 29)

any space tends to look serene when it's not full of angry dinosaurs

Diane Setterfield

on a summer day winter always seems like something you have dreamt or heard spoken of and not a thing you have lived.

People remembered. They wept and they grieved. In the spaces between, they were glad that the leeks were doing well this year, envied the bonnet of the neighbor's cousin, relished the fragrance of pork roasting in the kitchen on Sunday. There were those that registered the beauty of a pale moon suspended behind the branches of the elms on the ridge.

But pecuniary interest is clearly not in your nature. How quaint. I have written about people who don't care for money, but I never expected to meet one. Therefor I conclude that the difficulty concerns integrity. People whose lives are not balanced by a healthy love of money suffer from an appauling obsession with personal integrity. - Vida Winter

For the first time in a lifetime by the river he noticed—really noticed—that under a moonless sky the river makes its own mercurial light. Light that is also darkness, darkness that is also light.

They sat on the bank. It was better to tell such stories close to the river than in a drawing room. Words accumulate indoors, trapped by walls and ceilings. The weight of what has been said can lie heavily on what might yet be said and suffocate it. By the river the air carries the story on a journey: one sentence drifts away and makes room for the next.

The cat was on the window ledge, gazing intently into the garden.

a single lupine exhalation could reduce it to rubble.

We turned into the rose garden where the pruned bushes appeared as piles of dead twigs, but the elaborate borders of box that surrounded them in sinuous Elizabethan patterns twisted in and out of the moonlight, showing here silver, there black. A dozen times I would have lingered—a single ivy leaf turned at an angle to catch the moonlight perfectly; a sudden view of the great oak tree, etched with inhuman clarity against the pale sky—but I could not stop.

just want to take some photographs. I don't think the weather is on my side, though." "You'll get to see it properly within the hour. This mist won't last long.

wall of yew twice

then into a space where there seemed to be nothing but mist. When we came to a wall of yew twice as high as Aurelius himself, we followed it. I noticed a sparkling in the grass and on the leaves: The sun had come out. The moisture in the air began to evaporate and the circle of visibility grew wider by the minute. Our wall of yew had led us full circle around an empty space; we had arrived back at the same walkway we had entered by.

The river is of no use to a yorkshire cat, it is the moors he is looking for.

Looking back along my morning's route, I can see the trail roller-coasting past estuaries and inlets, snaking its way along the meandering coastline.

The crime and humidity, along with a few million mosquitoes, deterred his appreciation of nature. His

Consider bonsai There but for constricting bowl Would be a giant.

I doubt if there is such a thing as a wholly free choice, because one's choices are rooted in one's personality.

The thought of [our] destruction is like a light in the middle of the night that spreads its flames on the objects it will soon consume. We must get used to contemplating this light, since it announces nothing that has not been prepared by all that comes before; and since death is as natural as life, why should be so afraid of it?