[H]e ran, he stopped—he dipped his glowing face into the cloud of blossoming bushes, and would fain lose himself in the humming world between the leaves; he pressed the scratched face into the deep, cooling grass, and hung delirious on the breast of the immortal mother of Spring. – Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, Hesperus, or Forty-Five Dog-Post-Days: A Biography,

Life is the power thats greater than I can ever comprehend. The way life runs through everything, even the tiniest elements of nature – that makes me humble. – Michael J. Fox

Whenever nature leaves a hole in a persons mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow