I think we are bound to, and by, nature. We may want to deny this connection and try to believe we control the external world, but every time there's a snowstorm or drought, we know our fate is tied to the world around us
Interpretation
This quote emphasizes our inherent connection to nature and how it ultimately influences our lives despite our attempts to assert control over it.
Alice Hoffman's quote reflects the intimate bond between humanity and the natural world, suggesting that while we may strive to dominate our surroundings, events like snowstorms and droughts remind us of our vulnerability and dependence on the environment. It highlights the inevitability of this connection and the futility of denying it, urging us to recognize our shared fate with the elements of nature.
In practice
This quote can be shared at an environmental awareness event to highlight our reliance on nature.
Before she realized he was next to her, he had placed his hands over hers on the countertop, then hooped his fingers through hers. Gretel looked up at him, so startled she might as well have been shot. 'I just wanted to wake you up', he said. Which is exactly what he did. One look at him and her heart was racing. One look, and whatever had been before was all over.
Do people choose the art that inspires them β do they think it over, decide they might prefer the fabulous to the real? For me, it was those early readings of fairy tales that made me who I was as a reader and, later on, as a storyteller.
I never plot out my novels in terms of the tone of the book. Hopefully, once a story is begun it reveals itself
My theory is that everyone at one time or another has been at the fringe of society in some way: an outcast in high school, a stranger in a foreign country, the best at something, the worst at something, the one who's different. Being an outsider is the one thing we all have in common.
My grandmother told me once that when you lose somebody you think you've lost the whole world as well, but that's not the way things turn out in the end. Eventually, you pick yourself up and look out the window, and once you do you see everything that was there before the world ended is out there still. There are the same apple trees and the same songbirds, and over our heads, the very same sky that shines like heaven, so far above us we can never hope to reach such heights.
It was the sort of beauty you feel so deeply it becomes contagious and somehow makes you feel beautiful too.
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
This song of the waters is audible to every ear, but there is other music in these hills, by no means audible to all. On a still night, when the campfire is low and the Pleiades have climbed over rimrocks, sit quietly and listen, and think hard of everything you have seen and tried to understand. Then you may hear it - a vast pulsing harmony - its score inscribed on a thousand hills, its notes the lives and deaths of plants and animals, its rhythms spanning the seconds and the centuries.
For millions of Americans, climate change is no longer just a chart or a graph. It's the smoke on our tongues from massive wildfires. It's the floodwater invading our homes and record-breaking hurricanes and heat waves.
We won't have a society if we destroy the environment.
The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.
Nature is our eldest mother; she will do no harm.
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