Quotes About Nature

But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.

Gin a body meet a body Coming thro' the rye, Gin a body kiss a body— Need a body cry?

Not the bee upon the blossom, In the pride o' sunny noon; Not the little sporting fairy, All beneath the simmer moon; Not the poet, in the moment Fancy lightens in his e'e, Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, That thy presence gi'es to me.

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie!

O desfiladeiro de Shibar tem mais de três mil metros de altitude, e já estávamos perto do limite das neves eternas quando deixámos para trás o fiozinho de água do Kunduz, no ponto em que iniciava a sua longa viagem em direcção ao Oxus e ao Mar de Aral. Cinco minutos mais tarde, outro fiozinho iniciava uma viagem ao encontro do rio Indo e do Oceano Índico. A geografia tem as suas emoções.

Death that makes nature quake with dread! today we are gods, tomorrow dust, creatures of poverty and pride, today hope fondly flatters us, tomorrow – man, where are you now? Your hours have barely fled away into the pit of chaos, your time fades like a dream at the new day.

I nearly drownded on the Big River back home, but I didn't. Instead, I come to love the river, though the river never loved me. That's how it was with this horse. Ever so splendid and mighty, but indifferent as running water.

the birds scratch the seed out of the feeder, then fly down to the deck to eat the seed. They know there's a cat, but still they go down to pick at the seed. When you think about it, people are often like this, too.

A woman I know gave me a build-it-yourself bird-feeder kit for Christmas, so I built it, and hung it from the eve of my roof high enough to keep the birds save from my cat. But the birds scratch the seed out of the feeder, then fly down to the deck and eat the seed. They know there's a cat, but still they go down to pick at the seed. When you think about it, people are often like this, too.

Pike closed his eyes, and filled his lungs, then pushed with his diaphragm. He breathed deep again. Pranayamic breathing from the hatha yoga. Pike lost himself in a cool forest glade, dappled by sunlight filtered through lime green leaves. When he breathed, he smelled moss and sumac. His pulse slowed. He grew calm. He centered. Pike

The rocks and rotten branches cut into Daniel's back. He took a tentative breath, and heard a wet popping in his chest. He coughed, but all that came out was aborted vomit. Daniel

What do I know of cultured ways, the gilt, the craft and the lie? I, who was born in a naked land and bred in the open sky. The subtle tongue, the sophist guile, they fail when the broadswords sing; Rush in and die, dogs—I was a man before I was a king.

A wolf was no less a wolf because a whim of chance caused him to run with the watch-dogs.

Day before yesterday I saw a rabbit, and yesterday a deer, and today, you.

Los animales aceptan y los humanos esperan. Nunca oirás a un conejo decir: espero que el sol salga esta mañana para poder ir al lago a jugar. Si el sol sale o no sale, no estropeara el día al conejo. Es feliz siendo un conejo. El caballero pensó en esto. No recordaba a ninguna persona que fuera feliz simplemente por ser una persona".

We ran as if to meet the moon.

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

Oh, come forth into the storm and rout And be my love in the rain.

Come over the hills and far with me And be my love in the rain.

I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~ And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be.

You, of course, are a rose-- But were always a rose.

The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day. When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, a cloud come over the sunlit arch, And wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.

Earth's the right place for love. I don't know where it's likely to go better.