For One Species To Mourn The Death

One Of The Penalties Of An Ecological Education Is That One Lives Alone In A World Of Wounds. Much Of The Damage Inflicted On Land Is Quite Invisible To Laymen. An Ecologist Must Either Harden His Shell And Make Believe That The Consequences Of Science Are None Of His Business, Or He Must Be The Doctor Who Sees The Marks Of Death In A Community That Believes Itself Well And Does Not Want To Be Told Otherwise.

I Do Not Imply That This Philosophy Of Land Was Always Clear To Me. It Is Rather The End Result Of A Life Journey.

Too Much Safety Seems To Yield Only Danger In The Long Run.

Our Grandfathers Were Less Well-housed, Well-fed, Well-clothed Than We Are. The Strivings By Which They Bettered Their Lot Are Also Those Which Deprived Us Of [passenger] Pigeons. Perhaps We Now Grieve Because We Are Not Sure, In Our Hearts, That We Have Gained By The Exchange. The Gadgets Of Industry Bring Us More Comforts Than The Pigeons Did, But Do They Add As Much To The Glory Of The Spring?

All History Consists Of Successive Excursions From A Single Starting-point, To Which Man Returns Again And Again To Organize Yet Another Search For A Durable Scale Of Values.