Quotes About Nature

Oh, aren't you glad it is spring? The beauty of winter is that it makes you appreciate spring.

Listen to the trees talking in their sleep," she whispered, as he lifted her to the ground. "What nice dreams they must have!

One forgets all through the year how lovely spring really is and so it comes as a surprise every time.

Anne always liked to get up early and catch that mystical half-hour before sunrise when the world belongs to the fairies and the old gods.

Have you ever noticed how many silences there are, Gilbert? The silence of the woods...of the shore...of the meadows...of the night...of the summer afternoon. All different because all the undertones that thread them are different. I'm sure if I were totally blind and insensitive to heat and cold I could easily tell just where I was by the quality of the silence about me.

Twas there we found our mayflowers, after faithful seeking. Mayflowers, you must know, never flaunt themselves; they must be sought as becomes them, and then they will yield up their treasures to the seeker—clusters of star-white and dawn-pink that have in them the very soul of all the springs that ever were, re-incarnated in something it seems gross to call perfume, so exquisite and spiritual is it.

Having adventures comes naturally to some people. You just have a gift for them or you don't have - Anne Shirley

But they had found the Tansy Patch a charming place and were glad to go again. For the rest of the vacation there was hardly a day when they did not go up to it-- preferably in the long, smoky, delicious August evenings when the white moths sailed over the tansy plantation and the golden twilight faded into dusk and purple over the green slopes beyond and fireflies lighted their goblin torches by the pond.

Oh, daddy, by what witchcraft have you coaxed that sulky rose-bush into bloom?' 'No witchcraft at all - it just bloomed because you were coming home, baby,' said her father.

Outside in the garden, which was full of mellow sunset light streaming through the dark old firs to the west of it, stood Anne and Diana, gazing bashfully at each other over a clump of gorgeous tiger lilies.

How quiet the woods are today... not a murmur except that soft wind putting in the treetops! It sounds like surf on a faraway shore. How dear the woods are! You beautiful trees! I love every one of you as a friend!

The tinkles of sleigh bells among the snowy hills came like elfin chimes through the frosty air, but their music was not sweeter than the song in Anne's heart and on her lips.

For, disguise the fact as we will, when friends, even the closest—perhaps the more because of that very closeness—meet again after a separation there is always a chill, lesser or greater, of change. Neither finds the other quite the same. This is natural and inevitable. Human nature is ever growing or retrogressing—never stationary.

I listen to the sound the sea makes. I like it now though it always makes me feel sorrowful, but it's a kind of a nice sorrow.

I never see a ship sailing out of the channel, or a gull soaring over the sand-bar, without wishing I were on board the ship or had wings, not like a dove 'to fly away and be at rest,' but like a gull, to sweep out into the very heart of the storm.

Then they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew.

Well, it is half an hour yet before prayer-meeting time, so I am going around to the kitchen garden to have a little evening hate with the weeds.

Oh, Marilla, she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs 'I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it?

Mr. James Reese's buckwheat stubble-land, with its beautiful tones of red and brown, a crow parliament was being held, whereat solemn deliberations regarding the welfare of crowland were in progress. Faith cruelly broke up the august assembly by climbing up on the fence and hurling a broken rail at it. Instantly the air was filled with flapping black wings and indignant caws. Why did you do that? said Walter reproachfully. They were having such a good

Life was a wonderful, mysterious thing of persistent beauty.

The sun was setting over Rainbow Valley. The pond was wearing a wonderful tissue of purple and gold and green and crimson. A faint blue haze rested on the eastern hill, over which a great, pale, round moon was just floating up like a silver bubble. They

That water looks as if it was smiling at me

And on Inkerman yet the wild bramble is gory, And those bleak heights henceforth shall be famous in story,'   quoted

There isn't any devil in a good dog. That's why they're more lovable than cats, I reckon. But I'm darned if they're as interesting.