Quotes About Nature

'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and whiteNature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive,If you will lead these graces to the graveAnd leave the world no copy.

The ripest fruit first falls.

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,And Phoebus 'gins arise,His steeds to water at those springsOn chalic'd flowers that lies;And winking Mary-buds beginTo ope their golden eyes:With everything that pretty is,My lady sweet, arise.

It is the very error of the moon;She comes more near the earth than she was wont,And makes men mad.

The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light.

At Christmas I no more desire a roseThan wish a snow in May's newfangled mirth;But like of each thing that in season grows.

Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,Frosty, but kindly.

Hamlet: For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion,—Have you a daughter?Polonius: I have, my lord.Hamlet: Let her not walk i' the sun.

Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,To make my small elves coats.

Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.All men make faults.

Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted;Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden.

Thus sometimes hath the brightest Day a Cloud; And after Summer, evermore succeeds Barren Winter, with his wrathful nipping Cold...

You are pictures out of doors,Bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens,Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.

Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.

Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.

He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.

Some men there are love not a gaping pig;Some, that are mad if they behold a cat.

His life was gentle, and the elementsSo mix'd in him that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world, "This was a man!"

Why, let the stricken deer go weep,The hart ungalled play;For some must watch, while some must sleep:So runs the world away.

A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

To hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.

A man of my kidney.

For you there's rosemary and rue; these keepSeeming and savor all the winter long.

The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded flyDoes lecher in my sight.Let copulation thrive.