Most men, it seems to me, do not care for Nature and would sell their share in all her beauty, as long as they may live, for a stated sum—many for a glass of rum. Thank God, men cannot as yet fly, and lay waste the sky as well as the earth!—Journal, 3 January 1861
Music is the sound of the circulation in nature's veins. It is the flux which melts nature.—Journal, 24 April 1841
Nature always adopts the simplest modes which will accomplish her end.—"The Dispersion of Seeds"
Nature has found her hoarse summer voice again, like the lowing of a cow let out to the pasture. It is Nature's rutting season.—Journal, 19 May 1856
Nature has left nothing to the mercy of man.—Journal, 22 March 1861
Nature is a greater and more perfect art, the art of God.—A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers
Nature is beautiful as in repose, not promising a higher beauty to-morrow. Her actions are level to one another, and so are never unfit or inconsistent.—Journal, 7-10 March 1841
Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity.—Journal, 5 January 1856
Nature is moderate and loves degrees.—Journal, 16 November 1858
Nature makes no noise. The howling storm, the rustling leaf, the pattering rain are no disturbance, there is an essential and unexplored harmony in them.—Journal, 18 November 1837
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