We need another and a wiser and a perhaps more mystical concept of animals.

Our fantastic civilization has fallen out of touch with many aspects of nature, and with none more completely than with night.

We of the age of the machines, having delivered ourselves of nocturnal enemies, now have a dislike of night itself. With lights and ever more lights, we drive the holiness and beauty of night back to the forests and the sea.

Nature is a part of our humanity, and without some awareness and experience of that divine mystery man ceases to be man.

If there is one thing clear about the centuries dominated by the factory and the wheel, it is that although the machine can make everything from a spoon to a landing-craft, a natural joy in earthly living is something it never has and never will be able to manufacture.

The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter woods.

The quality of life, which in the ardour of spring was personal and sexual, becomes social in midsummer.