Nature is an endless combination and repetition of a very few laws. She hums the old well-known air through innumerable read more

Nature is an endless combination and repetition of a very few laws. She hums the old well-known air through innumerable variations.

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the read more

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the only bird a typical American child ever sees is a canary in a pet shop window? When the only wild animal he knows is a rat - glimpsed on a night drive through some city slum? When the only tree he touches is the cleverly fabricated plastic evergreen that shades his gifts on Christmas morning?

There are no grotesques in nature; not anything framed to fill up
empty cantons, and unnecessary spaces.

There are no grotesques in nature; not anything framed to fill up
empty cantons, and unnecessary spaces.

Occurrences in this domain are beyond the reach of exact prediction because of the variety of factors in operation, not read more

Occurrences in this domain are beyond the reach of exact prediction because of the variety of factors in operation, not because of any lack of order in nature.

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the read more

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.

Got no check books, got no banks. Still I'd like to express my thanks - I got the sun in read more

Got no check books, got no banks. Still I'd like to express my thanks - I got the sun in the mornin' and the moon at night.

Simplicity is natures first step, and the last of art.

Simplicity is natures first step, and the last of art.

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.

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.