Quotes About Nature

I am getting old, Russell. Gone are the days when I could scramble about on the moors all day and curl up happily at night with a thin blanket and a stone for a pillow. Three nights on floorboards and one night without sleep following three days at strenuous labour make me aware that I am no longer a callow youth.

Laurie R. King

Forgiving himself came easy to him. His, he'd come to realize, was a forgiving nature.

Right there! See the blue on its head? See the long tail?" "Oh, there he is," I said, just to bring this little farce to an end. I couldn't see the bird, and I knew I wasn't going to see the bird, and I was rapidly tiring of the whole enterprise. "Beautiful, isn't he?" "Gorgeous," I agreed. "I'd have hated to miss him.

regummed. A regummed stamp is one which has lost its original gum somewhere along the way, only to have it replaced with new gum. When the equivalent is performed on, say, a Rembrandt oil painting, we call it restoration; when such restoration is performed on a postage stamp, we're more apt to regard it as a crime against nature, and a clear-cut example of philatelic fraud.

I could hear the cicadas like a vortex of hundreds of tiny violins. I'd always hated them, too. Anytime cicadas showed up, bad juju lurked nearby.

Be careful... What the dude said, ain't it? ... One lived in the woods and didn't pay his taxes. Musta been before Lyme disease, when you could still get by with that shit. You know the dude I talkin' about. Said to watch out for jobs you got to dress up for." "Thoreau." "Yeah, that's him.

He loved the desert because there the wind blew out one's footsteps like candle flames.

Frost in January minus 20 for a week. Dead birds frozen on the branch—they fall with the first thaw like ripe fruit—death-ripened. We shall all end like them—just a stain in the snow.

Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will - whatever we may think. They flower spontaneously out of the demands of our natures - and the best of them lead us not only outwards in space, but inwards as well. Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection....

Nature had combined in him the features of a degenerate pope and the torpor of a crocodile, and to these had added a voice of unconscionable harshness.

the indifference of the natural world to the constructions of art

We are the children of our landscape; it dictates behavior and even thought in the measure to which we are responsive to it.

In India when I was a boy they had great big green lizards there, and if you shouted or shot them their tails would fall off. There was only one boy in the school who could catch lizards intact. No one knew quite how he did it. He had a special soft way of going up to them, and he'd bring them back with their tails on. That strikes me as the best analogy I can give you. To try and catch your poem without its tail falling off.

God's real and subtle nature must be clear of distinctions: a glass of spring-water, tasteless, odourless, merely refreshing: and surely its appeal would be to the few, the very few, real contemplatives?

effect of place upon human temperaments.

And a flower, doesn't even know it's own beauty it's entire life. Sad, huh?

There is no wilderness. There is only our inability to fill the emptiness in which we live.

Tears are nature's lotion for the eyes. The eyes see better for being washed by them.

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.

Any gastronome who is not an environmentalist is stupid, and any environmentalist who is not a gastronome is sad.

As long as this exists, this sunshine and this cloudless sky, and as long as I can enjoy it, how can I be sad?

Why is it that so many of us persist in thinking that autumn is a sad season? Nature has merely fallen asleep, and her dreams must be beautiful if we are to judge by her countenance.

I cried at first, and then, it was such a beautiful day, that I forgot to be unhappy.