I have never been happier, more exhilarated, at peace, rested, inspired, and aware of the grandeur of the universe and the greatness of God than when I find myself in a natural setting not much changed from the way He made it.

Like music and art, love of nature is a common language that can transcend political or social boundaries.

Modern nature-worship is all upside down. Trees and fields ought to be the ordinary things; terraces and temples ought to be extraordinary. I am on the side of the man who lives in the country and wants to go to London.

The only words that ever satisfied me as describing Nature are the terms used in fairy books, "charm" "spell," "enchantment" They express the arbitrariness of the fact and its mystery.

Nature is the art of God.

Although gravity is by far the weakest force of nature, its insidious and cumulative action serves to determine the ultimate fate not only of individual astronomical objects but of the entire cosmos. The same remorseless attraction that crushes a star operates on a much grander scale on the universe as a whole.

The peace of nature and of the innocent creatures of God seems to be secure and deep, only so long as the presence of man and his restless and unquiet spirit are not there to trouble its sanctity.

Nature's silence is its one remark, and every flake of world is a chip off that old mute and immutable block.

How cunningly nature hides every wrinkle of her inconceivable antiquity under roses and violets and morning dew!

Nature is no spendthrift, but takes the shortest way to her ends.