The Most Beautiful Quotes About Nature

  • “I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, ‘This is what it is to be happy.’”
    —Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

 

  • “Not just beautiful, though—the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they’re watching me.”
    —Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

 

  • “‘Is the spring coming?’ he said. ‘What is it like?’ …
    ‘It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine, and things pushing up and working under the earth.’”
    —Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

 

  • “If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees.”
    —Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God

 

  • “The glitter in the sky looks as if I could scoop it all up in my hands and let the stars swirl and touch one another, but they are so distant, so very far apart, that they cannot feel the warmth of each other, even though they are made of burning.”
    —Beth Revis, Across the Universe

 

  • “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’”
    ―Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

 

  • “This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.”
    —John Muir, John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir

 

  • “Quiet stars and the still of expectation. The eucalyptus branches heavy with evening dew, their feet shuffling woodchips, braiding eights in the silver grass, and edging hillocks from the first mulch of fall.”
    —Will Chancellor, A Brave Man Seven Storeys Tall

 

  • “The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can’t.”
    —Christopher Paolini, Eragon

 

  • “But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called—called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come.”
    —Jack London, The Call of the Wild
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