I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn garner to the end of time.
I trust in God--the right shall be the right
And other than the wrong, while he endures;
I trust in my own soul, that can perceive
The outward and the inward, Nature's good
And God's.
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It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that read more
It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.
Everything is the product of one universal creative effort. There is nothing dead in Nature.
Everything is the product of one universal creative effort. There is nothing dead in Nature.
There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.
There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.
I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, read more
I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.
A person cannot love a plant after he has pruned it, then he has either done a poor job or read more
A person cannot love a plant after he has pruned it, then he has either done a poor job or is devoid of emotion.
To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with read more
To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
He got a corporation mind. He doesn't believe in nature; he puts his trust and distrust in man.
He got a corporation mind. He doesn't believe in nature; he puts his trust and distrust in man.
He who does not become familiar with nature through love will never know her.
He who does not become familiar with nature through love will never know her.
At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
read more
At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.
