Quotes About Moose

Registration Day' by Gavin Gunhold (1899— ) Toronto Review of Poetry, 1947 On registration day at taxidermy school I distinctly saw the eyes of the stuffed moose Move.

My moose," she said in a low voice. "I finally got it. The universe paid me in moose.

That wasn't a moose was it? Janelle said when Stevie was out of earshot. that's a branch, right? it moved in the wind? It's a branch. Nate replied. Like, that's obviously a branch, Vi said. Should we tell her? She seems really invested in this. Definitely not, Nate said as Stevie vanished in the direction of the classroom buildings, earbuds already in her ears. Let her have her moose.

"Buy my soda!" said the Moose Diarrhea Salesman. And we did. We all did. But when we got it home and opened up the package, it was not what they said it was. And rather than chucking it all and searching for something better, we're content with looking for another Moose Diarrhea Salesman.

Hunters will tell you that a moose is a wily and ferocious forest creature. Nonsense. A moose is a cow drawn by a three-year-old.

Kids in Alaska don't know they're growing up on the Last Frontier. It's just what they see on the license plates, and it's something tourists like to say a lot because they've never been around so many mountains and moose before.

Big Cyndi crossed the room with an agility that belied the bulk. She wrapped me in an embrace that made me feel as if I'd been mummified in wet attic insulation. In a good way. "Oh, Mr. Bolitar!" She started sniffling, a sound that brought images of moose mating on the Discovery Channel.

Without doubt, the moose is the most improbable, endearingly hopeless creature ever to live in the wilds. Every bit of it—its spindly legs, its chronically puzzled expression, its comical oven-mitt antlers—looks like some droll evolutionary joke. It is wondrously ungainly: it runs as if its legs have never been introduced to each other. Above all, what distinguishes the moose is its almost boundless lack of intelligence.

O Canada I have not forgotten you, as I kneel in my canoe, beholding this vision of a bookcase. You are the paddle, the snowshoe, the cabin in the pines. You are the moose in the clearing and the moosehead on the wall. You are the rapids, the propeller, the kerosene lamp. You are the dust that coats the roadside berries. But not only that, you are the two boys with pails walking along that road.

Wiping the rivulet of sweat running down my ear with the bottom of my muscle shirt, I snuck a sniff under my pit. Whoa. Kill a moose

I'm beginning to sense a theme," Mircea said, tossing his suit coat over a buckskin-covered chair. A moose head with huge, outspread antlers loomed over it, its bright glass eyes looking oddly lifelike in the low light. Mircea took in the room, his expression slightly repulsed yet fascinated. "I believe there is only one thing to say at this point." What's that?" Yee haw," he said gravely, and took me down like a rodeo calf.

And the last thought he had that morning as he closed his eyes was: I hope the tornado hit the moose.

The Connecticut River March 2, 1704 Temperature 10 degrees The Indians, it seemed, had paused here on their journey south from Canada to go hunting before the battle. Under the snow were stored the carcasses of twenty moose. Twenty! Eben had to count them himself before he could believe it, and even then, he could not believe it. Eben was no hunter. If he'd gotten one moose, it would have been pure luck.

I rolled my eyes. "Kit is looking for a job in Nova Scotia." "Canada?" Despite everything, Hi chuckled. "Have a good time, eh ? Don't fight with any moose. Meese. Whatever." "Shut up." Against all expectation, I giggled. At least I had my friends.

Did you know that, pound for pound, the moose is the leanest ruminant on Earth? It's true. Moose are very in tune with their natural surroundings.

In the backseat Moose and Squirrel inhabited a pair of six-year-old-twins, and wouldn't stop bickering and picking their noses. They were clearly in their element.

Let's take my truck, Jim said as he hit the gravel. Less noise. And it has a radio, right? With tragic concentration Adrian started warming up his voice, sounding like a moose being backstroked by a chesse grater. Jim shook his head at Eddie as the doors opened How can you stand that racket? Selective deafness Teach me,master.

faster," Trey says, over his shoulder. "Don't give it a chance to get holda you." "This is as fast as I go. Not all of us are built like jackrabbits." "Moose, more like." "You remember what I told you about manners?" Cal demands. Trey snorts and keeps moving. They pass between gorse bushes, around old turf-cutting scars, under a sheer cliffside where tufts of

Sometimes an alien would stand with a moose, not because of solidarity, but because of accidentally doing it.

And second, keep in mind that you are a weapon. In theory, when you're done with training, you should be able to kick a hole in a wall or knock out a moose with a single punch." "I would never hit a moose," said Clary. "They're endangered.

You're selling your moose?" "I'm selling all of them.

The sandy beach reminded Harold of picnics. And the thought of picnics made him hungry. So he laid out a nice simple picnic lunch. There was nothing but pie. But there were all nine kinds of pie that Harold liked best. When Harold finished his picnic there was quite a lot left. He hated to see so much delicious pie go to waste. So Harold left a very hungry moose and a deserving porcupine to finish it up.

Look!" I cried. "A moose—two mooses." Wynn smiled and nodded his head as he followed my pointing finger. He turned to me and said simply, "I must correct you, Elizabeth, so you won't be laughed at.—Moose is both singular and plural.

Jump in the air! Fall in the dirt. Just make sure no one gets hurt! Go…Moose!