Nature creates life and nature heals it. The medicine, the will, the regimen, the repose, the love, the pray... just help.

He doesn't care about life, he who doesn't care about Nature.

Life is a still repetitive miracle, not a poker table, not a business, it is sometimes sad poem, a game of scales of Nature, still favoring being.

The world of man is divided as man himself established and establish. Should it be war or peace, poverty or wealth is entirely up to man for as long as Nature is still a land, an ocean, and a sky that ensures life.

In this profound silence of the room I hear Nature breathing; I feel the stars slipping though the dark, very tight, bounded masses of matter. The Universe is beating its life through my heart.

Reason – Nature's attempt to organize hazard.