Quotes About Nature

A firefly came into view against the warm darkness. Then it went off, darting and dipping erratically -- out into the night, a tiny pinpoint of light, which, at the end of the day, is all that is needed.

Lions walk on four legs, observed Mma Makutsi. Was this man walking on four legs? That can be a big giveaway, Mma.

We should all have a tree in our childhood...a tree one might explore, a tree from which one might learn how to fall.

but to the north there was a bank of cirro-cumulus, a mackerel sky, or Schaefchenwolken—"sheep cloud"—as she remembered her father calling it. For some reason he had used German when talking about clouds and sea conditions; an odd habit that she had accepted as just being one of the things he did. "The weather," he had once said to her, smiling, "is German. I don't know why; it just is. Sorry.

The tree still celebrates its essential treeness through song, as nature will do whatever we impose on her. Birds still sing their ancient songs in the middle of a bustling city, with all its cacophony of man-made sounds. Dry leaves still rustle like dice even when growing against concrete or hewn stone. Out of a tiny crack in a pavement will crawl a perfectly formed insect, a creature of curves and protrusions amidst a linear world of man's engineering.

and the vestiges of that early feeling were still there, as she could not bring herself to punish the snails or caterpillars for their depredations. They were her fellow creatures, after all. They had not asked to be snails or caterpillars, and they needed to eat, as we all did.

It will be good for them to get out of London and get some country air. All those people in London breathing the air in and out; just think of it, Emma. Just think of all that breathing going on in London—it's a wonder there's any air left for the rest of us.

There are indeed ducks in Blackford Pond." "On it," muttered Isabel. "What?" "On the pond. There are ducks on the pond. There are fish in it." Even as she spoke, Isabel had no idea why she was being so pedantic, and

The turtles and birds who lived on the islands were also very friendly, as they hardly ever saw any humans and were always pleased to have some company.

It was a job that suited Stinger perfectly, as he was always happy when snarling, and snarling at sharks is as snarly a job as anyone can imagine. Of course it was possible that one day he might meet a shark who wasn't frightened of him, but then that's another story, and no job can be perfect in all respects.

And if things go on as they are, in a few months the men will have cut all the trees down and that will be the end of the bubblegum tree - forever'. Nobody said anything. Billy thought that he had never heard such a sad story before. Surely somebody could do something before the bubblegum trees before it was too late.

It was the beauty of the country before them that had done it. Scotland was a place of attenuated light, of fragility, of a beauty that broke the heart.

Mma Ramotswe would often stop and look at the sky; and this just went to show how wise she was, because looking at the sky was something that we all should do more often.

And they both had the land about them; the sky that went on forever, it seemed, and was filled with sun and with the air that they all needed, that the cattle needed, that the animals in the Kalahari needed--there was plenty of that; they had Botswana. So everybody had the things that mattered, when you came to think of it...

Talking about pumpkins doesn't make them grow.

people in Canada talk about feeling solitude? They sometimes call it a country of solitudes.

His particular insight was that we need to be at home; all his concerns with division within ourselves, with the tragic flaws in our nature, with the thwarting of love—all these point to the need that he felt we had within us to locate ourselves in a place we could live in with love, with people with whom we could share.

In alien lands I keep the body Of ancient native rites and things: I gladly free a little birdie At celebration of the spring. I'm now free for consolation, And thankful to almighty Lord: At least, to one of his creations I've given freedom in this world!

Upon the brink of the wild stream / He stood, and dreamt a mighty dream.

When I want somebody to read to, To match a dream with tuneful phrase, It is my nurse that I pay heed to, Companion of my youthful days, Or, following a boring dinner, A neihbour comes in, who I corner, Catch at his coat tails suddenly And choke him with a tragedy, Or, (here I am no longer jesting), Haunted by rhymes and yearning's ache, I roam beside my country lake And scare a flock of wild ducks resting: Hearing my strophes' sweet-toned chants, They fly off from the banks at once.

We live without power of law, like flocks of ravens they come and sweep over the land.

XXVIII. Sie liebte es, auf dem Balkone Dem Nahn des Frührots zuzusehn, Wenn in der blaßren Himmelszone Die Sterne nach und nach vergehn Und sacht der Horizont sich lichtet, Ein Wehn vom Morgen schon berichtet, Und dann der Tag allmählich steigt...

I would make my home, with joy and gladness, in a dark forest.

Sauvage, sad, silent, as timid as the sylvan doe, in her own family she seemed a strangeling.