Now nature is not at variance with art, nor art with nature; they
being both the servants of his read more

Now nature is not at variance with art, nor art with nature; they
being both the servants of his providence. Art is the perfection
of nature. Were the world now as it was the sixth day, there
were yet a chaos. Nature hath made one world, and art another.
In brief, all things are artificial; for nature is the art of
God.

Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?

Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?

We could have saved the Earth but we were too damned cheap.

We could have saved the Earth but we were too damned cheap.

Plants are the young of the world, vessels of health and vigor; but they grope ever upward towards consciousness; the read more

Plants are the young of the world, vessels of health and vigor; but they grope ever upward towards consciousness; the trees are imperfect men, and seem to bemoan their imprisonment, rooted in the ground.

What makes a river so restful to people is that it doesn't have any doubt - it is sure to read more

What makes a river so restful to people is that it doesn't have any doubt - it is sure to get where it is going, and it doesn't want to go anywhere else.

It's hard for the modern generation to understand Thoreau, who lived beside a pond but didn't own water skis or read more

It's hard for the modern generation to understand Thoreau, who lived beside a pond but didn't own water skis or a snorkel.

The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often read more

The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it.

How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and of read more

How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and of oil, growing, working, dying, with hardly a thought of wind, and sky, and fields of grain, seeing only machine-made beauty, the mineral-like quality of life?

A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it.

A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it.