I'm just a tough old woman.

Conservation is now a dead word.

There is always the need to carry on.

You can't conserve what you haven't got.

There are no other Everglades in the world.

No one is satisfied with their life's work.

No matter how poor my eyes are I can still talk.

You have to stand up for some things in this world.

I'll talk about the Everglades at the drop of a hat.

Pigheaded covers a multitude of virtues - as well as sins.

I wanted to go to a good college, and my mind was set on Wellesley.

Since 1972, I've been going around making speeches on the Everglades.

The Everglades is a test. If we pass it, we may get to keep the planet.

All we need, really, is a change from a near frigid to a tropical attitude of mind.

I take advantage of every thing I can - age, hair, disability - because my cause is just.

The problem of the environment is the extension of good housekeeping of the thinking woman.

To be a friend of the Everglades is not necessarily to spend time wandering around out there.

I feel greatly at fault in not having made a loud public protest about Belle Glade before this.

It is a woman's business to be interested in the environment. It's an extended form of housekeeping.

It's a little bit late in the day for men to object that women are getting outside their proper sphere.

Whoever wants me to talk, I'll come over and tell them about the necessity of preserving the Everglades.

They are unique in the simplicity, the diversity, the related harmony of the forms of life that they enclose.

Life should be lived so vividly and so intensely that thoughts of another life, or of a longer life, are not necessary.

There is nothing inherently wrong with a brain in your nineties. If you keep it fed and interested, you'll find it lasts you very well.

The hardest thing is to tell the truth about oneself. One doesn't like to remember unpleasant details, but forgetting them makes one's life seem disorganized.

Child welfare ought really to cover all sorts of topics, such as better water and sanitation and good roads, and clean streets and public parks and playgrounds.

There are no other Everglades in the world. They are, they have always been, one of the unique regions of the earth; remote, never wholly known. Nothing anywhere else is like them.

The miracle of light pours over the green and brown expanse of saw grass and of water, shining and slowly moving, the grass and water that is the meaning and the central fact of the Everglades. It is a river of grass.

The wealth of south Florida, but even more important, the meaning and significance of south Florida lies in the black muck of the Everglades and the inevitable development of this country to be the great tropic agricultural center of the world.

Since 1972, Ive been going around making speeches on the Everglades. No matter how poor my eyes are, I can still talk. Ill talk about the Everglades at the drop of a hat. Whoever wants me to talk, Ill come over and tell them about the necessity of preserving the Everglades.

Elizabeth Rothra's excellent biography of Charles Torrey Simpson restates his philosophies about the intrinsic value of natural ecosystems like the Everglades. No one knew better than he the history of the plants and animals of South Florida or conveyed it with more humor and enthusiasm.

There must be progress, certainly. But we must ask ourselves what kind of progress we want, and what price we want to pay for it. If, in the name of progress, we want to destroy everything beautiful in our world, and contaminate the air we breathe, and the water we drink, then we are in trouble.

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