Quotes About Nature

Mas se Deus é as flores e as árvores E os montes e sol e o luar, Então acredito nele, Então acredito nele a toda a hora, E a minha vida é toda uma oração e uma missa, E uma comunhão com os olhos e pelos ouvidos.   Mas

Independently of me the grass grows, the rain falls on the grass that grows, and the sun shines on the patch of grass that grew or will grow; the hills have been there for ages, and the wind blows in the same way as when Homer heard it, even if he didn't exist.

We're well aware that every creative work is imperfect and that our most dubious aesthetic contemplation will be the one whose object is what we write. But everything is imperfect. There's no sunset so lovely it couldn't be yet lovelier, no gentle breeze bringing us sleep that couldn't bring yet sounder sleep.

Olá, guardador de rebanhos, Aí à beira da estrada, Que te diz o vento que passa?"   "Que é vento, e que passa, E que já passou antes, E que passará depois. E

In another age we mastered the physical ocean, thereby creating universal civilization; now we will master the psychological ocean, emotion, mother human nature, thereby creating intellectual civilization.

To write is to objectify dreams, to create an outer world as a material reward [?] of our nature as creators. To publish is to give this outer world to others; but what for, if the outer world common to us and to them is the 'real' outer world, the one made of visible and tangible matter? What do others have to do with the universe that's in me?

Where there is form there is a soul.

In order to write this, I plucked the souls from all the flowers, and out of the ephemeral moments of all the songs of all the birds I wove eternity and stagnation.

A glória de um poente belo, com a sua beleza entristece-me . Ante ele eu digo sempre: como quem é feliz se deve sentir contente ao ver isto!

Through rational thought I can recognize that a man is a living being just like me, but for my true, involuntary self he has always had less importance than a tree, if the tree is more beautiful.

El sueño es la peor de las cocaínas, por ser la más natural de todas.

No tengo filosofía: tengo sentidos... Si hablo de la Naturaleza no es porque sepa qué es sino porque la amo, y la amo por eso, porque quien ama nunca sabe lo que ama, ni sabe por qué ama, y qué es amar... Amar es la eterna inocencia, y la única inocencia, no pensar.

Ah! Querem uma luz melhor que a do Sol! Querem prados mais verdes do que estes! Querem flores mais belas do que estas que vejo! A mim este Sol, estes prados, estas flores, contentam-me. Mas, se acaso me descontentam, O que quero é um sol mais sol que o Sol, O que quero é prados mais prados que estes prados, O que quero é flores mais estas flores que estas flores — Tudo mais ideal do que é do mesmo modo e da mesma maneira!

Man should not be able to see his own face. Nothing is more terrible than that. Nature gave him the gift of being unable either to see his face or to look into his own eyes. He could only see his own face in the waters of rivers and lakes. Even the posture he had to adopt to do so was symbolic. He had to bend down, to lower himself, in order to commit the ignominy of seeing his own face. The creator of the mirror poisoned the human soul.

I prefer to fail having known the beauty of flowers than to triumph in a wilderness, for triumph is the blindness of the soul left alone with its own worthlessness.

Privirea mea albastr? ca bolta cerului E calm? ca apele însorite. Chiar aÈ™a este, albastr? È™i calm?, Cum nici nu întreab? È™i nici nu se mir?... Dac? eu m-aÈ™ întreba È™i m-aÈ™ minuna Nu s-ar mai ivi pe câmpuri flori noi ?i nici nu s-ar schimba ceva în soare ca s? devin? astfel È™i mai mândru.

There's no sunset so lovely it couldn't be yet lovelier, no gentle breeze bringing us sleep that couldn't bring a yet sounder sleep.

I see humanity as merely one of Nature's latest schools of decorative painting. I don't distinguish in any fundamental way between a man and a tree, and I naturally prefer whichever is more decorative, whichever interests my thinking eyes.

You've never heard the wind blow. The wind only speaks of the wind. What you heard was a lie, And the lie is in you.

The country morning exists; the city morning promises. The former makes one live; the latter makes one think.

The country morning exists; the city morning promises. The former makes one live; the latter makes one think. And I'm doomed always to feel, like the world's great damned men, that it's better to think than to live. 202

Mas imperfeito é tudo, nem há poente tão belo que o não pudesse ser mais, ou brisa leve que nos dê sono que não pudesse dar-nos um sono mais calmo ainda.

L?udat fie Domnul pentru faptul c? nu sunt bun, Åži c? am egoismul natural al florilor Sau al râurilor ce îÅŸi urmeaz? calea Preocupate f?r? s?-ÅŸi de-a seama Doar s? înfloreasc? sau s? curg? la vale. Iat? singura misiune pe-aceast? lume, Asta ÅŸi numai asta- adic? a exista cât se poate de clar, Åži a ÅŸti s? o faci f?r? s? te gândeÅŸti c? exiÅŸti.

The repression of love sheds much more light on its nature than does the actual experience of it. Virginity can be a key to profound understanding.