Quotes About Nature

What matters it, O breeze, If now has come the spring When I have lost them both The garden and my nest?

There was that all-pervasive evening scent of cut grass and jasmine.

forest to their fields of corn and tobacco on the fertile slopes and rich bottom-lands. The

Even animals know better than to foul their own nest

Yisterday fair up sprang the flouris,This day thai are all slane with schouris;And fowles in forrest that sang cleirNow walkis with a drery cheir;Full caild are baith thair beddis and bouris.

Poetry reveals to us the loveliness of nature, brings back the freshness of youthful feelings, reviews the relish of simple pleasures, keeps unquenched the enthusiasm which warmed the springtime of our being, refines youthful love, strengthens our interest in human mature, by vivid delineations of its tenderest and softest feelings, and through the brightness of its prophetic visions, helps faith to lay hold on the future life.

Between roars the lion purrs.

Every mind was made for growth, for knowledge, and its nature is sinned against when it is doomed to ignorance.

Into the winter's gray delight, Into the summer's golden dream, Holy and high and impartial, Death, the mother of Life, Mingles all men for ever.

Be scared. You cant help that. But dont be afraid. Aint nothing in the woods going to hurt you unless you corner it, or it smells that you are afraid. A bear or a deer, too, has got to be scared of a coward the same as a brave man has got to be.

No one is without Christianity, if we agree on what we mean by that word. It is every individual's individual code of behavior by means of which he makes himself a better human being than his nature wants to be, if he followed his nature only. Whatever its symbol -- cross or crescent or whatever -- that symbol is man's reminder of his duty inside the human race.

The world is still, for she is old And many´s the bead of life she´s told. Her gossip there, the watching moon Views hill and stream and wave and dune

I feel like a wet seed wild in the hot blind earth.

Once a bitch always a bitch, what I say.

That they may have a little peace, even the best dogs are compelled to snarl occasionally.

In a recent interview, he compared himself to surfers: "What are they doing this for? It's just pure. You're alone. That wave is so much bigger and stronger than you. You're always outnumbered. They always can crush you. And yet you're going to accept that and turn it into a little, brief, meaningless art form.

Being adjacent to that much beauty—more than adjacent; immersed in, pierced by it—was the point. The physical risks were footnotes.

I was a sunburnt pagan now. I felt privy to mysteries.

Hands folded under my chin, I drifted. A bruise-colored cloud hung over Koko Head. A transistor radio twanged on a seawall where a Hawaiian family picnicked on the sand. The sun-warmed shallow water had a strange boiled-vegetable taste. The moment was immense, still, glittering, mundane. I tried to fix each of its parts in memory. I did not consider, even passingly, that I had a choice when it came to surfing. My enchantment would take me where it would.

Surfers have a perfection fetish. The perfect wave, etcetera. There is no such thing. Waves are not stationary objects in nature like roses or diamonds. They're quick, violent events at the end of a long chain of storm action and ocean reaction. Even the most symmetrical breaks have quirks and a totally specific, local character, changing with every shift in tide and wind and swell.

Mother Nature is providential. She gives us twelve years to develop a love for our children before turning them into teenagers.

Words [are] more beautiful than a found fall leaf.

He was driving into a world where the owls roosted with the chickens, where folks kept whippoorwills for pets and didn't get the Saturday Night Opry till Monday morning.

The cornfield seemed darker toward its center. Light entered at the rows' end, ran like liquid down the middles, getting shallower and shallower. There seemed at the convergence of the rows some mass of shadows light could not defray.