Fauna Quotes

“Out of the trees wild people stepped forth, gods Fauns and Satyrs and Dwarfs. Out of the river rose the river god with his Naiad daughters. And all these and all the beasts and birds in their different voices, low or high or thick or clear, replied:
"Hail, Aslan. We hear and obey. We are awake. We love. We think. We speak. We know.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew

“Este equilibrio entre humanos, flora y fauna empezó a tambalearse cuando los primeros se convirtieron ellos mismos en presa; o, mejor dicho, en mercancía.”
― Alan Weisman, The World Without Us

“Me miró, desde su altura, de una manera tal que me dio vuelta todo lo que tenía en el alma. Si alguien me mirara así cada tres o cuatro meses, estoy seguro de que mi vida sería digna de una biografía en varios tomos. En la mirada esa había de todo: agresión y ternura, desafío y ruego, erotismo, desdén, caricias, puñales, hielo, fuego, música…
Me sentí como si un caballo me hubiera pateado la cabeza con las herraduras de los dos cascos traseros al mismo tiempo, pero dándose maña para hacerme sentir que me estaba haciendo un favor.”
― Mario Levrero, Fauna / Desplazamientos

“There can be no doubt that the existing Fauna and Flora is but the last term of a long series of equally numerous contemporary species, which have succeeded one another, by the slow and gradual substitution of species for species, in the vast interval of time which has elapsed between the deposition of the earliest fossiliferous strata and the present day.”
― Thomas Henry Huxley, Advance of Science in the Last Half-Century, The

“Scattered trees, never thick enough to be a forest, were everywhere. Shasta, who had lived all his life in an almost tree-less grassland, had never seen so many or so many kinds. If you had been there you would probably have known (he didn't) that he was seeing oaks, beeches, silver birches, rowans, and sweet chestnuts. Rabbits scurried away in every direction as they advanced, and presently they saw a whole herd of fallow deer making off among the trees.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy

“To make a tarte of strawberyes," wrote Margaret Parker in 1551, "take and strayne theym with the yolkes of four eggs, and a little whyte breade grated, then season it up with suger and swete butter and so bake it." And Jess, who had spent the past year struggling with Kant's Critiques, now luxuriated in language so concrete. Tudor cookbooks did not theorize, nor did they provide separate ingredient lists, or scientific cooking times or temperatures. Recipes were called receipts, and tallied materials and techniques together. Art and alchemy were their themes, instinct and invention. The grandest performed occult transformations: flora into fauna, where, for example, cooks crushed blanched almonds and beat them with sugar, milk, and rose water into a paste to "cast Rabbets, Pigeons, or any other little bird or beast." Or flour into gold, gilding marchpane and festive tarts. Or mutton into venison, or fish to meat, or pig to fawn, one species prepared to stand in for another.”
― Allegra Goodman, The Cookbook Collector

“The day was warming fast, the air weighted with the sweetness of clover and grass and pasture scents. A dunnock fluted notes from its perch in an ancient hedge, while robins called from the treetops.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“The only company you should enjoy most is nature’s company, because nature has a way of revealing your individuality.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, The Infinity Sign

“Manusia adalah malaikat cacat
Cacat oleh nafsu
Manusia adalah fauna sempurna
Sempurna oleh akal”
― Sam Haidy, Malaikat Cacat

“The Foundry Man
All day, every day; a head
that pounds to the rhythm
of beating hammers.
Feet, numbed from the
vibrations of heavy
machinery, and skin that
glows crimson from the
blistering heat of the
furnace.
Sweat glistens on his
furrowed brow,
sweat that runs in rivulets
to eyes already sore from
black, putrid dust.
This is the lot of
the foundry man.
Not for him fresh
air, green fields,
or the sun on
his back.
He has a
heart of
gold,
strength
of steel.
He is a man
of iron.”
― Mrs A. Perry

“The grass in the meadow is wet and the ground gives a little beneath her feet. The herd of alpacas that have taken up residence in the meadow graze in the far distance. Maggie cuts a path towards the distant stile, watching as a flock of starlings take flight, swooping up from the earth and across the bone-colored sky until they come to settle in the treetops.
Stepping into the woods, Maggie senses the shift in atmosphere; here the air is a little cleaner, the light a little softer, glancing off the smooth, silver-grey trunks and dancing in the green canopy. She breathes the trees' exhalation, takes it in and makes it her own, inhales the moist-earth scent rising up beneath her boots and fills her lungs. The leaves rustle in the breeze, dripping the last of the raindrops in a steady beat.”
― Hannah Richell, The Peacock Summer

“Como es lógico, existe un ritmo constante y básico de extinciones. En nuestra época, las especies se extinguen cada año a consecuencia de las actividades humanas: la urbanización, la caza, la contaminación industrial o la destrucción de los bosques tropicales.”
― Carl Sagan, Comet

“For the first time Gersen saw indigenous fauna of Moudervelt: a band of lizard-foxes, with gray-green pangolin scales and a single optic orb. They reared high to watch Gersen pass by; when he slowed the car they advanced with dancing sidelong steps, for purposes Gersen could not guess. He drove on, leaving the troop staring after him.”
― Jack Vance, The Book of Dreams

“Aurora Rose looked back and forth among the three women, gladly distracted from the sad events by the puzzle before her. The fairies in real life had their own personalities, of course, despite their superficial similarities as ageless, chatty, loving aunt figures. Flora tended to try to lead and make decisions for them. Merryweather seemed to understand the basic workings of the world better, although she rarely acted on this knowledge and instead chose to comment snarkily on it. Sometimes she got sneaky and went behind Flora's back. Fauna was the one who hugged the princess the most and often acted as an intermediary between the other two.
The green one, "Fauna," seemed more concerned with how Aurora Rose was feeling- how 'everyone' was feeling. She was the one who had been waiting outside the cottage for the prince and princess. Like she was the one who 'cared.'
And the blue one- "Merryweather"- seemed 'incredibly' quick-minded and brilliant. And even snarkier.
"Flora" was brave and powerful and ready to plunge into any physical combat. And not for nothing, she was built like a gladiator.
They were 'all' acting like extreme versions of their real selves.”
― Liz Braswell, Once Upon a Dream

“The plants here aren't like anything on Earth," I tried to explain one night. "They have cells I can't explain. On Earth, all seeds have one or two embryonic leaves, but here they have three or five or eight."

"And RNA," Grun said, "not DNA. Nothing has DNA except us.”
― Sue Burke, Semiosis

“Having a poor memory or inability to focus can be just as much a blessing [as a curse].

Each X has a purpose.”
― Monaristw

“Though the garden brought no profit in winter, it had its own beauty. The white canopy over the glass house sparkled on bright days. The gazing ball grew a crystalline moon. Downy snow on the herb beds and flower gardens caught the light in soft, variant blues and mauves. Reddily clustered berries against the drifts formed a pretty picture. A frosted crescent blanketed the bench where Lavender and her father used to sit, listening to Amaryllis Fitch's divine harp concerts. And the winter garden wasn't silent, either. Chickadees in their black caps twittered about, and Lavender left a pan of seeds out for them. Rabbits' tracks crooked across the slumbering perennials and bulbs.”
― Jeanette Lynes, The Apothecary's Garden

“Bald eagles wheeled above the Sound, their commanding silhouettes outlined by blue sky. Belted kingfishers, with their fluffy topknots, often left their perches in the trees along the beach to flutter their blue-and-white plumage past my bunker. They eyed me through the unglazed window with fearless curiosity. River otters scooched along the beach below me sometimes, and once in a while I saw an orca breach, carving an arc between sea and sky. Their sleek black-and-white beauty was no less majestic than that of the eagles, and I cheered softly when I caught sight of them.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind

“we can probably, as a nation, loose all our birds, and there is an increasing number of people who wouldn’t even notice. as we become more urban, we’re loosing out attachment”
― George Monbiot, Feral: Rewilding the Land, the Sea and Human Life

“we can probably, as a nation, loose all our birds, and there is an increasing number of people who wouldn’t even notice. as we become more urban, we’re loosing our attachment”
― George Monbiot, Feral: Rewilding the Land, the Sea and Human Life

“It's just that the animals matter in a way that's hard to define. They matter not only because a particular species will die out if we don't lock its last members away in here, but because they belong to us, to the whole story of this Earth, and without them the story would not be as beautiful or as profound. Anyone who has ever stopped to watch a hummingbird beat its tiny wings to a stillness as it draws the nectar out of a flower with its long, curled tongue will know what I mean. The natural world is beautiful even when it is terrible, even when it is engaged in ritual slaughter. Any antelope who has ever felt the hot breath of a lion on its neck will know what I mean. In that last moment of its life, the antelope surely regrets that it will never again experience the thrum of the savannah under hoof, the generous shade of the acacia tree, the smell of water running over smooth white rocks. It wishes not to have to leave this beautiful world.

The natural world and the nonhuman beings in it are part of what makes this life worth living. If we kill all the beauty around us, we kill a part of ourselves. These thoughts whirl around pointlessly in my head, never resolving, just coming back to their starting point like a snake devouring its tail.”
― Emma Sloley, The Island of Last Things

“Much as I'd always enjoyed the balm of the plants and flowers, it had never occurred to me to aspire to work in here. I suppose I've been so single-mindedly committed to the animals, with their flesh-and-blood needs and their inescapable demands, that these other gentler living things have been obscured to me. I regret that now. There was always so much more than I have allowed myself to see.”
― Emma Sloley, The Island of Last Things