Quotes About Nature

We can finally offer an answer to the question: does Britain possess a constitution? The answer is that the traditional idea of a constitution which the British have long celebrated has become so corroded that it no longer provides a coherent account of the nature of British government

God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.

Our Lord has written the promise of the resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in spring-time.

Love is an image of God, and not a lifeless image, but the living essence of the divine nature which beams full of all goodness.

Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.

How foolish it was of Christ to purchase for us at the price of his shed blood the Spirit we did not need, in order that we might be given a facility in keeping the commandments, who we already have one by nature.

It is the nature of God's Word and the regulation of His will first to destroy what is in us and reduce to nothing whatever we are, and then erect His own structure.

They testify that nature is not changed but is preserved by God. But the stupid and crazy mob of monks has taught that parents, wives, and the world should be abandoned and that one should withdraw into a monastery. But what is to become of human society or finally of all life? Surely that was not sanctity or worship of God, as they have called it; it was satanic madness.

For when the heart is evil, all its works are evil, no matter how splendid they are. [And here it is clear that God is speaking, because He judges their hearts.] 1 And this word aptly and clearly expresses the nature of hypocrisy, which is a righteous performance in the eyes of men on earth, but is evil in the heart. Such are all heretics, all pretenders who create an appearance in public to which their heart does not correspond.

Begin with Christ. He came down to earth, lived among men, suffered, was crucified, and then He died, standing clearly before us, so that our hearts and eyes may fasten upon Him. Thus we shall be kept from climbing into heaven in a curious and futile search after the nature of God.

The human seed, this mass from which I was formed, is totally corrupt with faults and sins. The material itself is faulty. The clay, so to speak, out of which this vessel began to be formed is damnable. What more do you want? This is how I am; this is how all men are. Our very conception, the very growth of the foetus in the womb, is sin, even before we are born and begin to be human beings.

So we are not sinners because we commit this or that sin, but we commit them because we are sinners first.

it is completely contrary to the nature of sin to confess that one has sinned.

I know a beautiful garden, where there are a great many children in fine little coats, and they go under the trees and gather beautiful apples and pears, cherries and plums; they sing and run about and are as happy as they can be. Sometimes they ride on nice little ponies, with golden bridles and silver saddles. I asked the man whose garden it is, "What little children are these?" And he told me, "They are little children who love to pray and learn and are good.

But grace has changed my nature for the better, to keep me from joining them and shedding innocent blood.

God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, but on trees and flowers and clouds and stars.

Property is intended to serve life, and no matter how much we surround it with rights and respect, it has no personal being. It is part of the earth man walks on. It is not man.

When we try to understand something, more often than not, we kill it, and now I can feel the dangers of this encroaching on me: cynicism, bitterness, and infinite sadness...It's impossible to live if you're too aware, too thoughtful. Take nature for example: everything that lives happily and too a ripe old age is not very intelligent. Tortoises live for centuries, water's immortal, and Milton Friedman's still alive.

Muzica a fost inventat? pentru a compensa absen?a ploii.

I had drunk so deeply of grief and innocently gambled so hard with fate and irony that a special kind of vision was gathering in my eyes, not entirely clear just yet. This was the same look people saw in your eyes when you have died for beauty and come to live accepting nature as life with no promise of paradise, and mad at people who couldn't see that.

Is it not a magical thing, this life, when just a little ash, cinder, and unclear water can arrange themselves into a beautiful old woman who sways, lifts, kisses, loves, sickens, argues, loses, bears up under it all, and, wrinkling, still lives under all that and yet feeds the Holy in Nature by just the way she moves barefoot down a path?

This is weft and the weave of story for me. The endless lyrical emerging of the earth's tremendous thinking and the humbling required to simply bear witness to it. And the extraordinary day, when for an hour or so you realise that you too are being witnessed.

It is your task to walk back from the woods with an animal, not a pelt, not a corpse, but something alive. Curate that energy, feed it, don't domesticate it, make culture from it. It should be walking alongside you, not slung over your shoulder. You build your structures from its growls.