Man is a blind, witless, low brow, anthropocentric clod who inflicts lesions upon the earth.

Man is a blind, witless, low brow, anthropocentric clod who inflicts lesions upon the earth.

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

What is art? Nature concentrated.

What is art? Nature concentrated.

We have nowhere else to go... this is all we have.

We have nowhere else to go... this is all we have.

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the read more

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

I look upon all creatures equally; none are less dear to me and none more dear. But those who worship read more

I look upon all creatures equally; none are less dear to me and none more dear. But those who worship me with love live in me, and I come to life in them.

Extremes in nature equal ends produce; In man they join to some mysterious use.

Extremes in nature equal ends produce; In man they join to some mysterious use.

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.

You can live for years next door to a big pine tree, honored to have so venerable a neighbor, even read more

You can live for years next door to a big pine tree, honored to have so venerable a neighbor, even when it sheds needles all over your flowers or wakes you, dropping big cones onto your deck at still of night.