Quotes About Sand

The stars are numerous as the sand on the seashore.

Tío, la casa se está llenando —le digo—. Es como si viviéramos en la parte de abajo de un reloj de arena. Como si se nos estuviera terminando el tiempo. Como ser enterrados vivos.

Sometimes a workweek will grind you into sand, pulverize you into particles.

He looked very old. He looked, James thought, getting his head now against the Lighthouse, now against the waste of waters running away into the open, like some old stone lying on the sand; he looked as if he had become physically what was always at the back of both of their minds—that loneliness which was for both of them the truth about things.

The upper chamber contained a quantity of sand trickling into the lower

We saw an opening like a bay, and it has at the entrance, on the right hand, a very long spit of sand

rising approximately 130 feet from the water. A later explorer described the cape as "three great mountains of sand that look like islands

An individual in a crowd is a grain of sand amid other grains of sand, which the wind stirs up at will.

Then out of the dust and sand came the crabs, unharmed and infuriated, scuttling forward in search of revenge!

I'm still a Chicagoan in the fact that I can't do Christmas with sand and palm trees. It just doesn't compute - it's not Christmas unless your face hurts when you step outside.

Sand lines my soul which is filled with the breath of the ocean.

Theunis Piersma and his colleagues in the 1990s showed how red knots were able to detect tiny immobile bivalves (like mussels and clams) hidden in sand. When the bird pushes its beak into wet sand it generates a pressure wave in the minute amounts of water lying between the sand grains. This pressure wave is disrupted by solid objects, such as bivalves, which block the flow of water, thereby creating a 'pressure disturbance' detectable by the bird.

She worked her toes into the sand, feeling the tiny delicious pain of the friction of tiny chips of silicon against the tender flesh between her toes. That's life. It hurts, it's dirty, and it feels very, very good.

She worked her toes into the sand, feeling the tiny delicious pain of the friction of tiny chips of silicon against the tender flesh between her toes. That's life. It hurts, it's dirty, and it feels very, very good.

It seems to me that we all look at Nature too much, and live with her too little. I discern great sanity in the Greek attitude. They never chattered about sunsets, or discussed whether the shadows on the grass were really mauve or not. But they saw that the sea was for the swimmer, and the sand for the feet of the runner. They loved the trees for the shadow that they cast, and the forest for its silence at noon.

Lying under such a myriad of stars. The sea's black horizon. He rose and walked out and stood barefoot in the sand and watched the pale surf appear all down the shore and roll and crash and darken again. When he went back to the fire he knelt and smoothed her hair as she slept and he said if he were God he would have made the world just so and no different.

They set forth in a crimson dawn where sky and earth closed in a razorous plane. Out there dark little archipelagos of cloud and the vast world of sand and scrub shearing upward into the shoreless void where those blue islands trembled and the earth grew uncertain, gravely canted and veering out through tinctures of rose and the dark beyond the dawn to the uttermost rebate of space.

These parched beasts had died with their necks stretched in agony in the sand and now upright and blind and lurching askew with scraps of blackened leather hanging from the fretwork of their ribs they leaned with their long mouths howling after the endless tandem suns that passed above them

What are you doing in there, Camicazi? I told you to escape! And how did you know this was my sand yacht? You wrote 'The Hopeful Puffin 2' on the back of it, explained the basket, adding hastily, and I don't know what you're talking about. I've never heard of this Cami-whatsit.

Goatfish, comprising the Mullidae family, feed on sand using a pair of sensitive barbels ('feelers') beneath the chin with which they can sense their prey. Many have a specially shaped mouth with which to get at their prey in rubble.

Youth is a budd Life is a flower Springs in a moment Dyes in an hour Time is as sand Flesh is as glass Sand quick is run Life soon doth pass

Like Salvador Dali's paintings of watches melting in the sand, time wanders at its own curious pace whenever you're on vacation in a foreign country.

These joys were so trifling as to be as imperceptible as grains of gold among the sand, and in moments of depression she saw nothing but the sand; yet there were brighter moments when she felt nothing but joy, saw nothing but the gold.

Knowledge without wisdom is like water in the sand. ~ Guinean Proverb