Quotes About Nature

We crossed the James River and in 20 minutes we reached the top of the bluffs on the other side. We all stopped and looked back at the scene and I wished for an artist's hand or a poet's brain or for even to be able to tell in good plain prose how beautiful it was. If I had been the Indians I wold have scalped more white folks before I ever would have left it.

It beats me," he said, "why they call a south wind a norther, and how a wind from the south can be so tarnation cold. I never saw anything like it. Down here in this country, the north end of a south wind is the coldest wind I ever heard of.

They did not gather thickly any more on Silver Lake. Only a few very tired flocks settled late after sunset in the sloughs and rose to the sky again before the sun rose. Wild birds did not like the town full of people, and neither did Laura. She thought, "I would rather be out on the prairie with the grass and the birds and Pa's fiddle. Yes, even with wolves! I would rather be anywhere than in this muddy, cluttered, noisy town, crowded by strange people." And she said

Cold purple shadows rose in the east, crept slowly across the prairie, then rose in heights on heights of darkness from which the stars swung low and bright.

In the bitter cold weather Pa could not be sure of finding any wild game to shoot for meat. The

Wilder wrote, 'The roses scented the wind, and along the road the fresh blossoms, with their new petals and golden centers, looked up like little faces.

Even Grace ran up and down the rows, screeching and waving her little sunbonnet.

Love is worn like a wreath through the summers and the winters

she pronounced in an interview in 1964.10 'My father was a gentleman of substance, and never did a hand's turn in his life, and he was a most agreeable man.' He was also a fool, although not intellectually stupid by any means. He knew exactly the worth of the people around him, but it was not in his nature to present to them anything other than his 'agreeable' front.

Where does it lead, this rockrose path?

It seemed as natural as two blades of grass brushing each other in the wind.

Deacon went suddenly rigid and slipped out of her.He sat up,his eyes wide and the darkest green she´d ever seen.Like a forest on a moonless night.

He wanted me to be free of the past so I could be open to the future. So Alan named him after the white pines at Camp Fantastic. The tall, tall trees that had watched over Asher, and Eleanor, and everyone who had ever come here. The trees that framed a small beautiful world where joy transcended grief, and where the sounds of children, once alive, now gone, can still be heard.

Ingeborg lifted her face to the sun, eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the lake—wavelets lapping the shore, birds singing and two jays scolding above them, the wind sharing secrets with the crags, and children laughing and shouting. The mountain music filled Ingeborg with such joy, it leaked out her eyes and down her cheeks.

the sun was already stretching golden fingers across the grass, the blades sparkled green, like a welcome mat sprinkled with diamonds.

A meadowlark clinging to a goldenrod loosed his song in notes of joy that Joshua was sure he could see sparkling in the sun. Dewdrops still outlined a spider's web in dots of glitter, a prism of golden rays.

Jason patted me on the back. "Tomorrow night we'll take you out chasing deer." "I thought you'd chase cars," I said. He grinned. "What fun is that? Cars don't bleed.

Roland] jerked back too fast to see, and his fist was suddenly connecting with my chin. I didn't pass out, but my body went limp. Part of me was screaming silently. The other part was saying, 'Oh, what pretty trees.

Oh, no, a leopard blew up and plastered itself all over everything, but hey, animal print was in this year.

Anyone who doesn't believe that the forest is a deadly place has never been lost in one.

we're all creatures of light and darkness. Embracing your darkness won't kill the light. Goodness is stronger than that.

People who don't camp much think darkness falls from the sky. It doesn't. Darkness slides from the trees and fills them first, then spreads outward to the open places.

But Jasmine knew that everyone was evil, down deep when you scrape the skin away. Inside their heads everyone hunted, everyone killed, everyone was a monster.

Why does anger makes people pretty? Rage doesn't. Rage makes you ugly, but a little anger, that just seems to add spice. One of nature's cruelties, or maybe it's to keep us from killing each other more often.