You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Fragments came floating into his mind like bits of wood drifting down a stream, and he fished them out and read more
Fragments came floating into his mind like bits of wood drifting down a stream, and he fished them out and fitted them together.
Nature is a revelation of God; Art is a revelation of man
Nature is a revelation of God; Art is a revelation of man
The imagination of nature is far, far greater than the imagination of man.
The imagination of nature is far, far greater than the imagination of man.
I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn read more
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.
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A read more
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language.
And how should a beautiful, ignorant stream of water know it heads for an early release - out across the read more
And how should a beautiful, ignorant stream of water know it heads for an early release - out across the desert, running toward the Gulf, below sea level, to murmur its lullaby, and see the Imperial Valley rise out of burning sand with cotton blossoms, wheat, watermelons, roses, how should it know?
A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious read more
A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.
Yosemite Valley, to me, is always a sunrise, a glitter of green and golden wonder in a vast edifice of read more
Yosemite Valley, to me, is always a sunrise, a glitter of green and golden wonder in a vast edifice of stone and space.
Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term art, I should call it "the Reproduction of what the read more
Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term art, I should call it "the Reproduction of what the senses perceive in nature through the veil of the mist