The world, nature, human beings, do not move like machines. The edges are never clear-cut, but always frayed. Nature never draws a line without smudging it.

A heightened sense of the observation of nature is one of the chief delights that have come to me through trying to paint. I accumulated in those years so fine a surplus in the Book of Observance that I have been drawing confidently upon it ever since.

He who is not content to look, like a savage, at the phenomena of nature as disconnected, cannot any longer believe that man is the work of a separate act of creation ... Man is the co-descendant with other mammals of a common progenitor.

Nature does not complete things. She is chaotic. Man must finish, and he does so by making a garden and building a wall.

Man selects only for his own good: Nature only for that of the being which she tends.

Look at mother nature on the run in the 1970's.