Quotes About Nature

and as the sea wind blew on that high and lonely place, there began to slip away from the voter's mind the meaningless phrases that had crowded it long - thumping majority - victory in the fight - terminological inexactitudes - and the smell of paraffin lamps dangling in classrooms, and quotations taken from ancient speeches because the words were long.

It is to see at a glance the glory of the world, to see beauty in all its forms and manifestations, to feel ugliness like a pain, to resent the wrongs of others as bitterly as one's own, to know mankind as others know single men, to know Nature as botanists know a flower, to be thought a fool, to hear at moments the clear voice of God.

It was better to be a wild thing in the lovely marshes, than to have a soul that cried for beautiful things and found not one.

a God so holy we may not take his name into our mouths, whose nature is to be inapprehensible. . . . This is the grandest, purest concept of God, and one which story can do nothing with, which the human imagination constantly betrays [Our Dream of the Good God, Out of the Garden ].

If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.

It is a commonplace of all religious thought, even the most primitive, that the man seeking visions and insight must go apart from his fellows and love for a time in the wilderness.

If it should turn out that we have mishandled our own lives as several civilizations before us have done, it seems a pity that we should involve the violet and the tree frog in our departure.

Though men in the mass forget the origins of their need, they still bring wolfhounds into city apartments, where dog and man both sit brooding in wistful discomfort. The magic that gleams an instant between Argos and Odysseus is both the recognition of diversity and the need for affection across the illusions of form. It is nature's cry to homeless, far-wandering, insatiable man: Do not forget your brethren, nor the green wood from which you sprang. To do so is to invite disaster.

When man becomes greater than nature, nature, which gave us birth, will respond.

For the first time in four billion years a living creature had contemplated himself and heard with a sudden, unaccountable loneliness, the whisper of the wind in the night reeds.

The truth is, however, that there is nothing very "normal" about nature. Once upon a time there were no flowers at all.

In the days of the frost seek an minor sun.

We are one of many appearances of the thing called Life; we are not its perfect image, for it has no perfect image except Life, and life is multitudinous and emergent in the stream of time.

Out of the choked Devonian waters emerged sight and sound and the music that rolls invisible through the composer's brain. They are there still in the ooze along the tideline, though no one notices. The world is fixed, we say: fish in the sea, birds in the air. But in the mangrove swamps by the Niger, fish climb trees and ogle uneasy naturalists who try unsuccessfully to chase them back to the water. There are things still coming ashore.

I often have the fantasy that curly girls are mermaids who have had to adapt to life on dry land. We come from the sea. The ocean is in our blood. It sings through our heart and lungs, our skin and hair. Our curls require the nourishment only a watery environment can provide. Both ocean waves and curly hair are forces of nature that can't be tamed. We can only accept and admire their power and beauty.

though what bird in the best of circumstances does not look a little stricken?

The ants are my friends- they're blowing in the wind

Every family is a family of alligators.

I would look out upon the wildflowers, the mulch of swamps and leaves, the spring mosses greening on the rocks, or the boulderous mountains of street-black snow, whatever season it happened to be- my mittens clotted with ice, or my hands grimy with marsh mud- and from the back of my larynx I'd send part of my voice out toward the horizon and part of it straight up toward the sky. There must have been some pain in me. I wanted to howl and fly and break apart.

Irrigation sprinklers like the skeletons of brontosauruses. -Tassie Keltjin

If dolphins tasted good," he said, "we wouldn't even know about their language.

Pek çok eski Frans?z tüccar? doÄŸayla, özellikle de suyla öyle düÅŸmanca iliÅŸkiler içindeymiÅŸ ki isim verdikleri her ÅŸey kasvetlerini ta??yordu: bütün hoÅŸ tatil yerlerinin adlar? Frans?zcadan Ölümün Kap?s?, Dalgalar?n Mezar? ya da Åžeytan?n Gölü olarak çevrilmiÅŸti.

There seemed nothing so true as a yellow tree.

his hair was a production, of nature and art: it was as if his face had washed up on his head, like a tide, and left its mark, and then some artistic boy had come along to the same beach with a little paint.