To Those Devoid Of Imagination A Blank

Twenty Centuries Of 'progress' Have Brought The Average Citizen A Vote, A National Anthem, A Ford, A Bank Account, And A High Opinion Of Himself, But Not The Capacity To Live In High Density Without Befouling And Denuding His Environment, Nor A Conviction That Such Capacity, Rather Than Such Density, Is The True Test Of Whether He Is Civilized.

Prudence Never Kindled A Fire In The Human Mind; I Have No Hope For Conservation Born Of Fear.

O, God Assist Our Side: At Least, Avoid Assisting The Enemy And Leave The Rest To Me

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.

All Ethics So Far Evolved Rest Upon A Single Premise: That The Individual Is A Member Of A Community Of Interdependent Parts. . . The Land Ethic Simply Enlarges The Boundaries Of The Community To Include Soils, Waters, Plants, And Animals, Or Collectively: The Land.