Best 177 quotes in «grass quotes» category

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Shovel them under and let me work-- I am the grass; I cover all. And pile them high at Gettysburg And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun. Shovel them under and let me work. Two years, ten years, and the passengers ask the conductor: What place is this? Where are we now? I am the grass. Let me work.

Rerumputan turut membius jiwa bersama dingin malam. Mengikuti beku diamku mencoba berbicara, merangkai sebait sajak alam.

Shirtless, they’d stretch out in the long grass and take the healing brunt of a noontime sun that gave no clue of the thunderheads it already, in secret, had begun to breed.

So far as I am concerned the difference between men and women is that men are interested in cutting grass and women are not. I actually prefer a daisy-sprinkled lawn; Jack, of course, wanted meticulous stripes.

Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.

The children had had an argument once about whether there was more grass in the world or more sand, and Roger said that of course there must be more sand because of under the sea; in every ocean all over the world there would be sand, if you looked deep down. But there could be grass too, argued Deborah, a waving grass, a grass that nobody had ever seen, and the colour of that ocean grass would be darker than any grass on the surface of the world, in fields or prairies or people's gardens in America. It would be taller than tress and it would move like corn in the wind. ("The Pool

Song of myself A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.

The gods preferring their libations diluted with rainwater and mixed with freshly cut grass.

The crags of the mountain were ruthless in the moon; cold, deadly and shining. Distance had no meaning. The tangled glittering of the forest roof rolled away, but its furthermost reaches were brought suddenly nearer in a bound by the terrifying effect of proximity in the mountain that they swarmed. The mountain was neither far away nor was it close at hand. It arose starkly, enormously, across the lens of the eye. The hollow itself was a cup of light. Every blade of the grass was of consequence, and the few scattered stones held an authority that made their solid, separate marks upon the brain - each one with its own unduplicated shape: each rising brightly from the ink of its own spilling.

The grass is always greener on the other side--that's because we can't see over the fence.

The grass may not be softer later, and it may be brown tomorrow, but at least it's not lava.

The grass always seems greener on the other side of the fence. Many politicians promise green, green grass by blending niceties with delusion and by using alluring confidence tricks. They voice attractive tales and tell things, people like to hear. But the post-factual grassland often appears to be parched and barren. ("The grass was greener over there")

The grass changes color surreptitiously under the influence of the soil and the sunlight but neither the soil nor the sunlight ever notice that! And neither does the grass!

Tonight I miss you like the sky misses his moon; a delicate epiphany growing on grass. I serenade the breeze into dancing a cha cha cha; the mountains echo in the background. September sky never looked more charming; or the sublime petals of the rose looked so graceful.

This morning after yoga, I laid in the grass and watched the white clouds go by as the Earth turned slowly, and it was the single most beautiful thing, that I started to cry.

You can judge me all you want, but it's just ridiculous coz we're both part of the same universe. Let's just ride the horses into the meadow and let them roll in the delightful grass.

We never look at the grass, though it is ubiquitous. If it's left alone to shake its hair loose it will produce tiny tassels and flowers, miniature and beautiful, that I'd never noticed before. Beauty is so often size and commotion for us, and fancy labels, that the subterfuge of loveliness all around us goes unseen.

We parked our bikes on verges so they could graze.

Wind and breeze are separated today Crimson twilight denies to fade away Grass blades turn brown to match the soil We pretend to smile at every turmoil

Your success lies in your own hands. You must therefore not wait for the grass to become greener by magic. You have the hands to irrigate your own territory by doing what is expected of you!

You mean I can’t keep him because he needs trees and grass and room to roam?

Everything dies, from the smallest blade of grass to the biggest galaxy.

A lawn is nature under totalitarian rule.

All things such as grass and trees are soft and supple in life. At their death they are withered and dry.

A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener.

A storm breaks trees. It only bends grass.

But isn't the knowledge that comes from experience more valuable than the knowledge that doesn't? It seems fairly obvious to some of us that a lot of scholars need to go outside and sniff around - walk through the grass, talk to the animals. That sort of thing.

deep in the meadow , under the willow , a bed of grass , a soft green pillow

Do not allow grass to grow on the road of friendship.

Everybody always thinks the grass is always greener.

Ach, Rangers are alright, but they still haven’t invented blue grass.

A man's renown is like the hue of grass, Which comes and goes.

Apparently I don't do stairs, I won't walk on carpet and I refuse to walk on grass. How do I do to get around, hover?

Concrete is heavy; iron is hard - but the grass will prevail.

Drinking and smoking grass were a part of my life as far back as I can remember.

Fellow from Texas can tell the difference between grass-roots and AstroTurf.

From the highest god to the meanest grass, the same power is present in all - whether manifested or not. We shall have to call forth that power by going from door to door.

From our broadcasting box you can't see any grass at all. It is simply a carpet of humanity.

Grass grows at last above all graves.

Grass is a surface I have always loved, Wimbledon is a tournament I have always loved.

Grass probably helped me as much as it hurt me. Especially as a performer.

Gratitude is confidence in life itself. In it, we feel how the same force that pushes grass through cracks in the sidewalk invigorates our own life.

Grass is hard and lumpy and damp, and full of dreadful black insects.

He will hear the rain before he feels it, a clicking on the dry grass, on the olive leaves.

Guys like John McEnroe, Bjorn Borg and Stefan Edberg were also very good grass court players.

HELPED are those who lose their fear of death; theirs is the power to envision the future in a blade of grass.

How was life before Pop-Tarts, Prozac and padded playgrounds? They ate strudel, took opium and played on the grass.

How much power is there in a thousand noisy engines? I tell you, there is more power in a single blade of grass.

Human: That's stupid. Isn't there grass on both sides?

If grass can grow through cement, love can find you at every time in your life.