#nature

Part of water which is cooler always flows to below surface. I understand that hotheaded men always want to be noticed. ↗

— Toba Beta

#law #men #nature #prioritize #men

I keep drawing the trees, the rocks, the river, I'm still learning how to see them; I'm still discovering how to render their forms. I will spend a lifetime doing that. Maybe someday I'll get it right. ↗

— Alan Lee

#nature #trees #nature

Seems like the cold would never go away and winter would be like the bottom of my feet but then it is gone in one night and in its place comes the sun so large and laughable. ↗

— Sherman Alexie

#nature

Culture had worked in her own case, but during the last few weeks she had doubted whether it humanized the majority, so wide and so widening is the gulf that stretches between the natural and the philosophic man, so many the good chaps who are wrecked in trying to cross it. ↗

— E.M. Forster

#philosophy #nature

Silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grow pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you. ↗

— Diane Setterfield

#writing #nature

Bizim hepimizin içinde zübüklük olmasa, bizler de birer zübük olmasak, aramızdan böyle zübükler büyüyemezdi. Hepimizde birer parça olan zübüklük birleşip işte başımıza böyle zübükler çıkıyor. Oysa zübüklük bizde, bizim içimizde. Onları biz, kendi zübüklüğümüzden yaratıyoruz. Sonra, kendi zübüklüklerimizin bir tek Zübük’de birleştiğini görünce ona kızıyoruz. Bu zübükler heryerde var, biz zübükler nerde varsak, onlar da orada... ↗

— Aziz Nesin

#humor #stupidity #truth #humor

You can predict anything in this world but not the nature's behaviour ↗

— Ningraj

#nature

This is not just "our" world. ↗

— Mario Stinger

#home #humility #world #nature

Flow gently, sweet Afton, amang thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. Thou stock dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen, Ye wild whistly blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green crested lapwing thy screaming forbear, I charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair. How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighboring hills, Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills; There daily I wander as noon rises high, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where, wild in the woodlands, the primroses blow; There oft, as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, And winds by the cot where my Mary resides; How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave, As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, amang thy green braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dreams. ↗

— Robert Burns

#nature #poetry #dreams

Nature cannot be commanded except by being obeyed. ↗

— Francis Bacon

#natural-hygiene #nature #nature