Henry David Thoreau Quotations: NATURE & THE ENVIRONMENT
Is Nature so easily tamed? Is she not as primitive and vigorous here as anywhere?—Journal, 30 August 1856
It is a thorough process, this war with the wilderness—breaking nature, taming the soil, feeding it on oats. The civilized man regards the pine tree as his enemy. He will fell it and let in the light, grub it up and raise wheat or rye there. It is no better than a fungus to him.—Journal, 2 February 1852
It is chiefly the spring birds that I hear at this hour, and in each dawn the spring is thus revived.—Journal, 4 July 1852
It is in vain to dream of a wildness distant from ourselves. There is none such.—Journal, 30 August 1856
It seems to be a law that you cannot have a deep sympathy with both man and nature.—Journal, 11 April 1852
It was ready to echo the growl of a bear, the howl of a wolf, or the scream of a panther; but when you get fairly into the middle of one of these grim forests, you are surprised to find that the larger inhabitants are not at home commonly, but have left only a puny red squirrel to bark at you.—The Maine Woods
It was summer, and now again it is winter. Nature loves this rhyme so well that she never tires of repeating it.—Journal, 7 December 1856
It will have some red stains, commemorating the mornings and evening it has witnessed; some dark and rusty blotches, in memory of the clouds and foggy, mildewy days that have passed over it; and a spacious field of green reflecting the general face of Nature,—green even as the fields; or a yellow ground, which implies a milder flavor,—yellow as the harvest, or russet as the hills.—"Wild Apples"
It would be worth the while if in each town there were a committee appointed to see that the beauty of the town received no detriment. If we have the largest boulder in the county, then it should not belong to an individual, nor be made into door-steps.—Journal, 3 January 1861
Left to herself, nature is always more or less civilized, and delights in a certain refinement; but where the axe has encroached upon the edge of the forest, the dead and unsightly limbs of the pine, which she had concealed with green banks of verdure, are exposed to sight.—"A Walk to Wachusett"
