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?
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Things perfected by nature are better than those finished by art.
[Lat., Meliora sunt ea quae natura quam illa read more
Things perfected by nature are better than those finished by art.
[Lat., Meliora sunt ea quae natura quam illa quae arte perfecta
sunt.]
Nothing makes me so happy as to observe nature and to paint what I see.
Nothing makes me so happy as to observe nature and to paint what I see.
If nature were not beautiful, it would not be worth knowing, and if nature were not worth knowing, life would read more
If nature were not beautiful, it would not be worth knowing, and if nature were not worth knowing, life would not be worth living
How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and of read more
How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and of oil, growing, working, dying, with hardly a thought of wind, and sky, and fields of grain, seeing only machine-made beauty, the mineral-like quality of life?
[T]reat Nature by the sphere, the cylinder and the cone. . . .
[T]reat Nature by the sphere, the cylinder and the cone. . . .
Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.
Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.
Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but read more
Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but at the right time God awakened us, and here we are to comfort you.
I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech-tree, or a read more
I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech-tree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.
