Quotes About Nature

But in the garden of simple, where all of us are nameless, you were never anything but beautiful to me.

Audubon considered it a bad day if he didn't shoot a hundred birds. "It's amazing that his name has become synonymous with conservation.

You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

Being part of the natural world reminds me that innocence isn't ever lost completely; we just need to maintain our goodness to regain it.

All the rhinos are dead, for the most part. I think that's really sad.

Don't be sad that roses have thorns. Be glad that thorns have Roses. Today's the day I worried about yesterday and it didn't happen.

We are beasts, you know, beasts risen from the savannas and jungles and forests. We have come down from the trees and up out of the water, but you can never, ever fully remove the feral nature from our psyches.

Reeds are strong, you know, Ulean whispered to me. They bend during storms, rather than break. I blinked. Yes, but reeds won't hold up a house. They make a good raft, so don't write them off so fast.

The shadows drifted near, then dragged away, as if the entire forest were breathing, as if her feet were its heartbeat, as if she were the only thing alive in the world.

And so we sat, holding hands, under the brilliant stars. Because sometimes we needed to take life one day at a time. Sometimes, we needed to slow down and dance in the meadow and watch for shooting stars with our best friends.

larkspur and lupine, foxglove and Indian paintbrush.

Nature is fierce, and she's self-protective, and she doesn't give two hoots about us. But we need her to survive, we need her because she is the only thing that gives us life in these bodies. So we accept her capriciousness and respect the hell out of her. She's bigger and stronger than we can ever hope to be.

The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.

People have separated from each other with walls of concrete that blocked the roads to connection and love. and Nature has been defeated in the name of development.

Was this the bright vastness the poet Bash? saw when he wrote of the Milky Way arched over a stormy sea?

A child walked by, rolling a metal hoop that made a sound of autumn.

I want to live so that everything around me remains clean. I want to think about other people more. Pushing people out of the way and trying to climb over their heads are no good. Chasing nothing but money – that's no good eiher, like knocking your brains out trying to be a little more famous, a little more powerful. To hear the birds song and to say "Ah, they're singing!" To see the flowers and to say "Ah they're blooming!" That,s the way to live.

Polka dots can't stay alone. When we obliterate nature and our bodies with polka dots we become part of the unity of our environments.

Psychological and physical frictions abound in the rifts between human beings and the enigmatic, civilised jungle they inhabit. I am deeply interested in trying to understand the relationships between people, society, and nature; and my work is forged from accumulations of these frictions.

With this first letter I sent fourteen watercolors, including Nostalgia of the Orient, Glorious Sunset at Sea, Distressed Stars on Earth, Deep Sorrow, Kingdom of Ferns, Abandoned Heart, and Rye and Rainbow.

BELOVED, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there;

I shall arise and go to Innisfree

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree. In a field by the river my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

We sat grown quiet at the name of love. We saw the last embers of daylight die And in the trembling blue-green of the sky A moon, worn as if it had been a shell Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell About the stars and broke in days and years.