Best 24 quotes in «geese quotes» category

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    ...my heart is a desolate field over which geese vee, the sky turns and the days lie fallow...

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    Oh, listen. Listen!' A sound like a big crowd a good way off, excited and shouting, getting closer. We stand up and scan the empty sky. Suddenly there they are (the geese), a wavering V headed directly over the hilltop, quite low, beating southward down the central flyway and talking as they pass. We stay quiet suspending our human conversation until their garulity fades and their wavering lines are invisible in the sky. They have passed over us like an eraser over a blackboard, wiping away whatever was there before they came.

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    Man is the Reasoning Animal. Such is the claim. I think it is open to dispute. Indeed, my experiments have proven to me that he is the Unreasoning Animal... In truth, man is incurably foolish. Simple things which other animals easily learn, he is incapable of learning. Among my experiments was this. In an hour I taught a cat and a dog to be friends. I put them in a cage. In another hour I taught them to be friends with a rabbit. In the course of two days I was able to add a fox, a goose, a squirrel and some doves. Finally a monkey. They lived together in peace; even affectionately. Next, in another cage I confined an Irish Catholic from Tipperary, and as soon as he seemed tame I added a Scotch Presbyterian from Aberdeen. Next a Turk from Constantinople; a Greek Christian from Crete; an Armenian; a Methodist from the wilds of Arkansas; a Buddhist from China; a Brahman from Benares. Finally, a Salvation Army Colonel from Wapping. Then I stayed away for two whole days. When I came back to note results, the cage of Higher Animals was all right, but in the other there was but a chaos of gory odds and ends of turbans and fezzes and plaids and bones and flesh--not a specimen left alive. These Reasoning Animals had disagreed on a theological detail and carried the matter to a Higher Court.

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    A goose flies by a chart which the Royal Geographical Society could not mend.

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    I came across Mother Goose, so I turned her loose, she was screaming.

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    Don't kill the golden goose.

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    I describe my look as a blend of mother goose, cinderella, and the local hooker!

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    Even if your goose habitually lays golden eggs, it will still be cooked.

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    Let the long contention cease! / Geese are swans, and swans are geese.

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    I want my chirfugging goose back!

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    My dearest goose, why didn't you trust me, when I assured you that you might?' he countered. 'I have cherished throughout the believe that you would confide in me, and you see I was quite right.

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    The fox remains always a fox, the goose remains a goose, and the tiger will retain the character of a tiger.

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    The objective is to pluck the geese in such a manner as to obtain the greatest number of feathers with the least amount of hissing.

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    To want to meet an author because you like his books is as ridiculous as wanting to meet the goose because you like pate de foie gras.

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    What's good for the goose is good for the gander.

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    It is not that the French are not profound, but they all express themselves so well that we are led to take their geese for swans.

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    Stravinsky used Mother Goose. He was influenced by Mother Goose, indirectly, but very beautifully

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    The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his sleeve.

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    What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.

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    A giant motherboard of geese, unruffled by the state police, swarmed in unison, in harmony...

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    Who but an English professor would threaten to kill a duck a day and hold up a goose as an example?

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    Each time you see that indelible V-formation, be grateful for the perfect moment to be alive. And should you hear the geese calling, drink it in, knowing you have been touched with the indescribable magnificence of the Canada Geese.

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    He went to look closely at the painting, which portrayed a parade of fat white geese strolling past the doorway of a cottage. "Someday I'll be able to afford real art," Garrett said, coming to stand beside him. "In the meantime, we'll have to make do with this." Ethan's attention was drawn to the tiny initials in the corner of the work: G.G. A slow smile broke over his face. "You painted it?" "Art class, at boarding school," she admitted. "I wasn't bad at sketching, but the only subject I could manage to paint adequately was geese. At one point I tried to expand my repertoire to ducks, but those earned lower marks, so it was back to geese after that." Ethan smiled, imagining her as a studious schoolgirl with long braids. The light of a glass-globe parlor lamp slid across the tidy pinned-up weight of her hair, bringing out gleams of red and gold. He'd never seen anything like her skin, fine and powerless, with a faint glow like a blush-colored garden rose. "What gave you the idea to paint geese in the first place?" he asked. "There was a goose pond across from the school," Garrett said, staring absently at the picture. "Sometimes I saw Miss Primrose at the front windows, watching with binoculars. One day I dared to ask her what she found so interesting about geese, and she told me they had a capacity for attachment and grief that rivaled humans. They mated for life, she said. If a goose was injured, the gander would stay with her even if the rest of the flock was flying south. When one of a mated pair died, the other would lose its appetite and go off to mourn in solitude.

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    I'm scared of the geese. When I was five, my mom took me down there to feed those horrible beasts and one of them nearly took my hand off.