We seek with our human hands to create a second nature in the natural world.

There is something stirring in the way civilization gapes like a savage at the achievements of nature.

When nature is overriden, she takes her revenge.

The planet keeps to the astronomer’s timetable, but the wind still bloweth almost where it listeth.

Are we not ourselves nature, nature without end?

The oldest voice in the world is the wind.

It is hard when nature does not respect your intentions, and she never does exactly respect them.

There is a time to battle against nature, and a time to obey her. True wisdom lies in making the right choice.

In tampering with the earth, we tamper with a mystery.

Conservation is not merely a thing to be enshrined in outdoor museums, but a way of living on land.

It raineth every day, and the weather represents our tearful despair on a large scale.

The sea is mother-death, and she is a mighty female, the one who wins, the one who sucks us all up.

Nature never jests.