Quotes About Nature

The wind has shifted to the East. A storm isn't far off. I can smell the moisture in the air, a fetid, living thing. Isolated drops fall, licking at my hands, my face, my dress. The quests squawk in surprise, turn their palms up to the sky as if questioning it, and dash for cover.

You try standing up to my mom. She's a force of nature.

I've been thinking about that book about the boys who crash on the island....Lord of the Flies what about it....You know how you said it wasn't a true measure of humanity since there were no girls and you wondered how it would be different if there had been girls...Maybe girls need an island to find themselves. Maybe they need a place where no one's watching them so they can be who they really are.

The ground's soft with pine needles and the occasional crunch of a cone. The air smells like it's just been born.

Why must we die when everything within us was born to live?

Sometimes, when the wind blows through them leaves, it sounds like your name. It's like a sigh, then, she says. The most beautiful sound I ever heard. A gentle breeze catches in the branches then and I hear it, soft and low, a murmured prayer--Gem-ma, Gem-ma--and then the leaves bend down and trail delicate fingers across my cold cheeks.

People will be who they are, and there is not enough magic in any world to change that.

I know the English are terribly sentimental about the sea, but I can live without it.

It is the scorpion's nature to sting. Just because he has no opportunity doesn't mean that he cannot.

Well, I mean, all the best people have a little beast in them.

El viento lo observa todo con indiferencia. Al fin y al cabo, no es más que el viento.

How can anyone own the woods?" Evie grumbled. "Only the woods own the woods.

I like the way Georgia looks, so different from Texas. All those tall pine trees and that rich, red dirt, like the ground bled and scabbed over, like it's got a history you can read in the very clay.

wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils.

As Qwilleran approached it a squirrel ran up a tree, looked down at him, and scolded.

Lincoln Child

Herbert's And now in age I bud again After so many deaths I live and write; I once more smell the dew and rain and relish versing.

There's no more beautiful place in the world than northeastern Ohio in the summertime.

Within the human heart things have taken over. God's gifts now take the place of God, and the whole course of nature is upset by the monstrous substitution."6 We have mixed up what we serve and what we use. Sadly, many serve things and use God; the Scriptures instruct us to do just the opposite.

A pool just isn't the same as the ocean. It has no energy. No life.

Walking, I can almost hear the redwoods beating. And the oceans are above me here, rolling clouds, heavy and dark. It is winter and there is smoke from the fires. It is a world of elemental attention, of all things working together, listening to what speaks in the blood. Whichever road I follow, I walk in the land of many gods, and they love and eat one another. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.

There is a way that nature speaks, that land speaks. Most of the time we are simply not patient enough, quiet enough, to pay attention to the story.

tears have a purpose. they are what we carry of the ocean, and perhaps we must become the sea, give ourselves to it, if we are to be transformed.

Can we love what will swallow us when we are gone? I do.