Everything is dangerous, my dear fellow. If it wasn't so, life wouldn't be worth living.
Oscar WildeRead
Far away beyond the pine-woods,' he answered, in a low dreamy voice, 'there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold, crystal moon looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the sleepers.
Interpretation
This quote evokes a serene and idyllic vision of nature that offers beauty and tranquility.
Oscar Wilde's quote paints a vivid picture of a peaceful and dream-like garden, symbolizing a refuge from the chaos of life. Through rich imagery of nature's beauty, such as long grass, hemlock flowers, and the nightingale's song, Wilde invites readers to contemplate the restorative power of nature and suggests that such tranquility exists beyond the reach of everyday strife.
In practice
This quote can be shared during a nature retreat to inspire participants to connect with their surroundings.
Everything is dangerous, my dear fellow. If it wasn't so, life wouldn't be worth living.
London is too full of fogs and serious people. Whether the fogs produce the serious people, or whether the serious people produce the fogs, I don't know.
When one has never heard a man's name in the course of one's life, it speaks volumes for him; he must be quite respectable.
Men always want to be a woman's first love - women like to be a man's last romance.
A truth ceases to be true when more than one person believes in it.
His morality is all sympathy, just what morality should be
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.
We have such a brief opportunity to pass on to our children our love for this Earth, and to tell our stories. These are the moments when the world is made whole. In my children's memories, the adventures we've had together in nature will always exist.
There are flood and drought over the eyes and in the mouth, dead water and dead sand contending for the upper hand. The parched eviscerate soil gapes at the vanity of toil, laughs without mirth. This is the death of the earth.
There is always something new out of Africa.
...Nature builds up her refined and invisible architecture, with a delicacy eluding our conception, yet with a symmetry and beauty which we are never weary of admiring.
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