Quotes About Nature

The first summer after the end of the war was beautiful.

Under the force of the imagination, nature itself is changed.

Bleary-eyed one morning, with caffeine still missing from my system, I fumbled my way along the dusty path to the guest tents, calling out 'Good morning!' in as cheery a voice as the hour would allow (it was barely after five o'clock, and the sun had only just cracked the horizon). I heard a rhythmic thumping, getting rapidly louder, and I turned to find 1,600 pounds of pissed-off cow bearing down on me. Clearly it disagreed with my assessment of the morning.

The young woman thought: "You've got to be old or mad. But we stayed too young. Is it any fault of ours? We still soak up the juices like a sapling. We rob nature just to exist. Oh and by the way, the earth still has a molten middle, and its chimneys sometimes spew forth and bury places blossoming with life. Isn't that so? Bane of my existence, fire of my soul, Edgar, my beloved, you keep me young, don't let me grow old!

till he'd tried it. You have to understand. There's nothing in the sea this fish would fear. Other fish run from bigger things. That's their instinct. But this fish doesn't run from anything. He doesn't know fear. He might be cautious—

seen Blue Water, White Death, the 1971 feature film that, for me, remains the finest documentary ever made about sharks.

wherever they live, travel, hike, swim, fish, dive, kayak, or trek, they risk being confronted by something capable of doing them in with tooth, fang, claw, jaw, or stinger, and yet there is no public clamor to eradicate any animal because of the peril it poses to the human population. australians have learned to coexist in relative peace with nearly everything, and when occasionally a human life is lost to an animal, the public usually reacts philosophically.

In a way, sharks are like tornadoes. they touch down here, but not there. they wipe out this house but suddenly veer away and miss the house next door.

Loyalty cannot be too liberally insisted upon. Altruism in nature remains an exception. It poses a puzzle, being in prima facie conflict with the survival of the fittest and most selfish.

Questions that are designed to change other people are the wrong questions. Wrong, not because they don't matter or are based on ill intent, but because they reinforce the problem-solving model. They are questions that are the cause of the very thing we are trying to shift: the fragmented and retributive nature of our communities.

A volte mi sembra che la terra non voglia che le cose durino, ma voglia che tutto crolli e che noi tutti che ne andiamo via. Che voglia tornare al principio, al giardino con i frutti e gli animali, prima che Dio diventasse ambizioso e rovinasse tutto. Avrebbe dovuto riposare al sesto giorno, non al settimo.

A cormorant broke the surface, like an improbable idea tearing the membrane between dreams and life.

Når verden går meg imot, og det unnlater den sjelden å gjøre når det gis noen leilighet til det, har jeg alltid funnet meg vel ved å ta en friluftsvandring som demper for min smule bekymring og uro. Hva som hadde vært i veien denne gangen, husker jeg nå ikke mer; men det som står klart for min erindring, er at jeg en sommerettermiddag for noen år siden vandret oppover engene på østsiden av Akerselva

Every so often I find some poems that are too good for the readers of The Atlantic because they are a little too involved with the nature of poetry, as such.

Life is a zoo in a jungle

Nothing is more natural, of course, than that extreme environments produce their opposites.

Human nature is pretty shabby stuff, as you may know from introspection.

Certainly for many people the most intense music is the music of the spheres—the perception of built-in coherence in nature—and that is the music of pure ideas. We

Anyway, we don't need to get into all that. My point is simply, no, King David, the heavens are not telling the glory of God (Ps. 19:1)—at least not without a lot of heavy theological lifting and perhaps a double bourbon. The heavens actually freak me out and make me wonder whether there is a God at all

Placeholder theology is the very nature of theology. By it we acknowledge the human need to say something about ultimate meaning concerning the Creator and the creation while also understanding that what we say will never say it all.

As if we didn't have enough weapons already. But that's human nature, we've always got to go one better, to increase the terror another notch.

The temperature fell. The rain quickened, thinning the clouds, clearing the sky. Evolution began once more.

You think that isn't you? You believe you are noble and kind? Do you know how the dominance works?

Does my willingness to do my duty make the human race a bunch of dangerous killers?