Quotes About Nature

the wild man is a symbol of masculinity that is instinctive, untamed by women, in touch with nature and part of nature - that will be dishonored and disregarded, even feared, until men seek to know and bring this source of strength and masculinity into consciousness, and into the culture

Singing Beach on the North Shore of Boston. Do you know the beach? It's called Singing Beach because the sand sings in this strange way under your bare feet when you run across it.

It was still very wet under the trees. A careless tug at a branch might flip cold rainbow-edged drops down your back. And the sky was gray as concrete. But they enjoyed the silence, the soft sucking ground matted with last year's needles.

O can't you see it, O can't you see it,Her skin is like dusk on the eastern horizon… When the sun goes down.

Storm Ending Thunder blossoms gorgeously above our heads, Great, hollow, bell-like flowers, Rumbling in the wind, Stretching clappers to strike our ears . . . Full-lipped flowers Bitten by the sun Bleeding rain Dripping rain like golden honey— And the sweet earth flying from the thunder.

Night winds in Georgia are vagrant poets, whispering.

They're happy.' 'Yes, like animals . . . mindlessly!

Never ran this hard through the valley never ate so many stars I was carrying a dead deer tied on to my neck and shoulders deer legs hanging in front of me heavy on my chest People are not wanting to let me in Door in the mountain let me in

In the country, especially, there are such a lot of entertaining things. I can walk over everybody's land, and look at everybody's view, and dabble in everybody's brook; and enjoy it just as much as though I owned the land--and with no taxes to pay!

She was worshiping under the blue sky, to the jubilant chanting of the birds.

She was by nature a sunny soul, and had always snatched the tiniest excuse to be amused.

It's the one touch of nature that makes the whole world kin. (That isn't original. I got it out of one of Shakespeare's plays). However

I ate breakfast in the kitchen by candle-light, and then drove the five miles to the station through the most glorious October colouring. The sun came up on the way, and the swamp maples and dogwood glowed crimson and orange and the stone walls and cornfields sparkled with hoar frost; the air was keen and clear and full of promise. I knew something was going to happen.

She was by nature a sunny soul

Pretty as a painting, but thorny as a rose.

The world is nothing without life, and all that lives takes nourishment.

One should embrace the artist's profession only after recognising in oneself an intense passion for Nature and the disposition to pursue it with a perseverance that nothing can shatter - thirst for neither approval nor financial profit. Do not be discouraged by the censure that might fall upon one's works - one must be armoured with a strong conviction which makes one go straight ahead fearing no obstacle. An unremitting task […] an unassailable conscience. (From a sketchbook of 1847).

It smelt as if those fields had been given over to excessive productivity, which would wear out the earth's heart.

Si ricordò di alcune riflessioni che aveva annotato di recente sul suo quadernetto. A proposito della povertà di vocabolario riguardante il mare. Solo i greci avevano tante parole per definirlo. Hals, il sale, il mare in quanto materia. Pelagos, la distesa d'acqua, il mare come visione, spettacolo. Pontos, il mare spazio e via di comunicazione. Thalassa, il mare in quanto evento. Kolpos, lo spazio marittimo che abbraccia la riva, il golfo o la baia...

Had I been blind and deaf, or does it take the glare of disaster to show a person's true nature?

The wolves howl bluer than Billie Holliday, but they don't spoil my song.

To my garden I thee hie--- For soon all summer's beauties die; For lasting gems, for future frock Seek not the soaring bee--- Look down!----the rock.

In addition to the rose stems, she'd stashed some stalks of yarrow---Fitch's yarrow, harp-song yarrow, as local people called it. They bought it for protection, healing or, often, a love charm. Lavender knew yarrow's other, more shadowy names: werewolf's tail, witch's weed, bad man's plaything.

Garden season deepened. The lantern flies winked and blinked. Poppies flaunted their scarlet robes. Ants feasted in the peonies, and protected them from invaders. The pear tree blossomed. Lavender sensed her mother's presence, just past the first layer of fragrant air. In the parlor, the harp stood, silent, as before. But its silence didn't grieve Lavender. Its magic had wintered her through part of the journey that brought her to where she was now.