Best 6303 quotes in «nature quotes» category

His eyes were riveted to the full, round breasts that had clearly been sculpted by God or nature and not a cosmetic surgeon.

His new friends did not, perhaps, realize the overpowering effect of the sudden change upon this northernbred man; the effects of the moonlight and the soft trade-wind, the life of love which surrounded him here. Love whispered to him vaguely, compellingly. It summoned him from the palm fronds, rustling dryly in the continuous breeze; love was telegraphed through the shy, bovine eyes of the brown girls in his estate-house village; love assailed him in the breath of the honey-like sweet grass, undulating all day and all night under the white moonlight of the Caribbees, pouring over him intoxicatingly through his opened jalousies as he lay, often sleepless, through long nights of spice and balm smells on his mahogany bedstead—pale grass, looking like snow under the moon. The half-formulated yearnings which these sights and sounds were begetting were quite new and fresh in his experience. Here fresh instincts, newly released, stirred, flared up, at the glare of early-afternoon sunlight, at the painful scarlet of the hibiscus blooms, the incredible indigo of the sea—all these flames of vividness through burning days, wilting into a caressing coolness, abruptly, at the fall of the brief, tropic dusk. The fundament of his crystallizing desire was for companionship in the blazing life of this place of rapid growth and early fading, where time slipped away so fast. ("Sweet Grass")

History and man made each other.

His (Samuel Coleridge) dark senses were constantly in play, the frustration of them bringing illness. Weather and organic nature combined in a synaesthetic multi-media event, and this was the ground of all perception before it was divded up in daily living: the Primary Imagination giving way to the Secondary. Poetry was forever seeking a conscious return to this state, which existed all the time, whether he knew it or not.

Hold fast to the mountain, take root in a broken-up bluff, grow stronger after tribulations, and withstand the buffering wind from all directions.

holding the evening tremblingly close to me i weep into the sun letting the burden of hope lift off my chest i realize this is what it means to be free.

Hold intention, but allow the green wisdom to guide you in ways you might not suspect. Feel the presence of supernature, as it is the living life force that animates all things. Commune. Be open to your vision, hearing and feelings. Be open to initiation. Be initiated into the ways of the green.

Hold out your hands to feel the luxury of sunbeams. Press the soft blossoms against your cheek, and finger their graces of form, their delicate mutability of shape, their pliancy and freshness. Expose your face to the aerial floods that sweep the heavens, ‘inhale great draughts of space,’ wonder, wonder at the wind’s unwearied activity. Pile note on note the infinite music that flows increasingly to your soul from the tactual sonorities of a thousand branches and tumbling waters. How can the world be shriveled when this most profound, emotional sense, touch, is faithful to its service? I am sure that if a fairy bade me choose between the sense of sight and that of touch, I would not part with the warm, endearing contact of human hands…

Home at that moment was a starless night, a steady wind, not a human to be seen.

Homosexuality is nature’s way of keeping the population in check.

Honey is a bee's sweat.

Hope had finally learned to live in the present. Often, when she found herself in a space of tremendous comfort, usually out in nature, or when her children were safe all around her and on the verge of going to bed, she forced herself to take stock. Here you are, Hope, she told herself. What a beautiful moment. You may never again be here at this spot, enjoying the calm. This habit of hers, to acknowledge the immediate and elusive joy of the present, kept her sane.

Hope, strive and try to be more like Christ until the day we will see Him. Let Him find you faithfully and in obedient serving Him. He is coming quicker than people think.

How about we be the light of Jesus Christ? There are things we tend to forget when fear becomes the driving force. The world is filled with a lot of questions now; what do we do? Who do we elect? How do we fix this? Some people feel powetless in those ways. Helpless, hopeless, confused, overwhelmed. What do we do? My answer: Stop looking for practical advice "don't be afraid " "those who are with us are more than those who are with them" 2 kings 6:16

How, and when shall these things come to pass? wherefore are our years few and evil?

How can we distinguish what is biologically determined from what people merely try to justify through biological myths? A good rule of thumb is ‘Biology enables, Culture forbids.’ Biology is willing to tolerate a very wide spectrum of possibilities. It’s culture that obliges people to realize some possibilities while forbidding others. Biology enables women to have children – some cultures oblige women to realize this possibility. Biology enables men to enjoy sex with one another – some cultures forbid them to realize this possibility. Culture tends to argue that it forbids only that which is unnatural. But from a biological perspective, nothing is unnatural. Whatever is possible is by definition also natural. A truly unnatural behavior, one that goes against the laws of nature, simply cannot exist.

How can one deceive these dear little birds, when they look at one so sweetly and confidingly? I call them birds because there is nothing in the world better than birds!

How can you care about the image of a landscape, when you show by your deeds that you don't care for the landscape itself?

How can you measure progress if you don't know what it costs and who has paid for it? How can the "market" put a price on things - food, clothes, electricity, running water - when it doesn't take into account the REAL cost of production?

How can you stand to do it? The poor little mouse!" Grover shrugged. "It's nature," he said. "Nature likes the snake just as much as the mouse.

How do you explain the wind behind the sails? The waves in the ocean? Roots within the earth? It just is.

How I wish to fly with the geese away from dreary November days, the "freeze-up," and cruel winter. Away from loneliness, isolation, and anxiety bred by blizzards. Most every local person I've talked to grudgingly admits to an autumn apprehension. It is part and parcel of an Adirondacker's psychological makeup. The geese contaminate us with this strange depression on their southbound flight and cure us with their northbound. In between, we try to tolerate winter, each in his or her own way.

How much happens due to our own doing? It is only the plan that gets designed, and that too, not by us alone, it is as an evidence in the process. At the time when the work [effect] happens, we are not the evidentiary doer. The work [effect] continues to happen naturally.

...how many writers still dare compare a woman to Nature, like Campion? - there is a garden in her face - how lovely...

How much I'd always envied the tight life of voles. The hidey hole was happiness.

How to be a Poet (to remind myself) i Make a place to sit down. Sit down. Be quiet. You must depend upon affection, reading, knowledge, skill—more of each than you have—inspiration work, growing older, patience, for patience joins time to eternity… ii Breathe with unconditional breath the unconditioned air. Shun electric wire. Communicate slowly. Live a three-dimensional life; stay away from screens. Stay away from anything that obscures the place it is in. There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places. iii Accept what comes from silence. Make the best you can of it. Of the little words that come out of the silence, like prayers prayed back to the one who prays, make a poem that does not disturb the silence from which it came.

How things change,’ I say, ‘how strange that, even when all is lost, we can still find beauty in simple things.

How thin the air felt at the forest's edge, how ghostly the trees that guarded their realm.... The whole world seemed as delicate as a dandelion seed, and as fleeting.... How sad to know that the figment village of my imagination would not vanish when I ended, to understand that it was not I who had invented the moon the first time I realized how lovely it was. To admit that it was not my breath that made the winds blow.... [M]y heart, my heart knew that when I closed my eyes I invented the night sky and the stars too. Wasn't the whole dome of the sky the same shape as the inside of my skull? Didn't I create the sun and the day when I raised my eyelids every morning?

How small we feel with our petty ambitions and strivings in the presence of the great elemental forces of Nature!

How strange it is beholding this, and, very confident, proclaim that such magnificence occurred by accident.

How strange it was, I thought, that when the tiny though thousandfold beauties of the Earth disappeared and the immeasurable beauty of outer space rose in the distant quiet splendor of light, man and the greatest number of other creatures were supposed to be asleep! Was it because we were only permitted to catch a fleeting glimpse of those great bodies and then only in the mysterious time of a dream world, those great bodies about which man had only the slightest knowledge but perhaps one day would be permitted to examine more closely? Or was it permitted for the great majority of people to gaze at the starry firmament only in brief, sleepless moments so that the splendor wouldn't become mundane, so that the greatness wouldn't be diminished?

How was she created? I'm not sure if you realize this, but it was in God's image. How can anybody dare to speak ill of something which bears such a noble imprint?

How to hang on to that full-body joy I knew I was capable of and still understand it as elegy.

How they Agree; how temp'ratly they Feed; How curiously they Build; how chastly Breed; How seriously their Bus'ness they intend; How stoutly they their Common-good defend; How timely their Provisions are provided; How orderly their Labors are divided; What Vertues patterns, and what grounds of Art; What Pleasures, and what Profits they impart; When these, with all those other things I mind Which in this Book, concerning Bees, I finde: Me thinkes, there is not half that worth in Mee, Which I have apprehended in a Bee. And that the Pismere, and these Hony-flies, Instruct us better to Philosophize, Than all those tedious Volumes, which, as yet, Are least unto us by meere Humane-wit. For, whereas those but only Rules doe give; These by Examples teach how to live.

Humankind is united in its essential nature and is divided only in those things that are of secondary importance.

Humankind must begin to learn that the life of an animal is in no way less precious than our own.

Humans exercise egoism and nature strikes blows to bring them down. Nature says, "I am the one doing (all this), and what are you doing egosim for?

Humans could never accept the world as it was and live in it. They were always breaking it and living amongst the shattered pieces.

Humans seem to have an innate drive to master other creatures.

Humans! They lived in a world where the grass continued to be green and the sun rose every day and flowers regularly turned into fruit, and what impressed them? Weeping statues. And wine made out of water!

Human welfare depends on healthy ecosystems.

Humans are part of nature, and nature is one great big wood chipper. Sooner or later, everything shoots out the other end in a spray of blood, bones, and hair.

I adored your fluttering touches and effervescent kisses nestled among great roots. The sunlight dappling your shoulders. Vines curling in your hair. Our cheeks burning. Wandering through hidden places. A secret love skirting the shadows. The water and wind sang for us. The trees danced with us. The beetles whispered their blessings. We ate the plump wild-berries. I soon found my mouth bitter and stained. Your petal-soft love turned to thorns. The mist faded in the bright morning but left me cold and damp. The mossy ground charred. My lips starved and bleeding.

I adore the sky wearing rainbow shawl of love for the birds so that they could fly free in warmth after the storm

I also liked the ocean, and I found staring at it had a calming effect. The air was so clean, so fresh, while the world back beyond the border was what it had always been during the modern era: dirty, tired, imperfect, winding down, at war with itself. Back there, I had always felt as if my work amounted to a futile attempt to save us from who we are.

I always believed that If I’m not carrying at least a slight poetically painful crack in my heart I’ve been cheated by nature.

I am 52 years old, and have spent truly the better part of my life out-of-doors but yesterday I heard a new sound above my head a rustling, ruffling quietness in the spring air and when I turned my face upward I saw a flock of blackbirds rounding a curve I didn't know was there and the sound was simply all those wings just feathers against air, against gravity and such a beautiful winning the whole flock taking a long, wide turn as if of one body and one mind. How do they do that? Oh if we lived only in human society with its cruelty and fear its apathy and exhaustion what a puny existence that would be but instead we live and move and have our being here, in this curving and soaring world so that when, every now and then, mercy and tenderness triumph in our lives and when, even more rarely, we manage to unite and move together toward a common good, and can think to ourselves: ah yes, this is how it's meant to be.

I am a bit old fashion but I believe in prayer, I believe prayer can move mountain. Prayer might not be our responsibility but it is a good starting place. It can give us heaven's prospectives on human problems. I know we need to do a bit more than pray but that doesn't mean we don't need to pray.

I am amazed upon the many battle that we engage in, be it money, control or matters of the heart, only very few of us knows how to fight in the right way or understand who we are really fighting against. To win any battle you' ve got to have the right strategy and resources because victories don't come by accident.

I am authentic I live in harmony with who I am I am true to my nature