Quotes About Green

Later, an English ship caught sight of the abandoned beasts swimming in the dark green sea on a journey to oblivion.

Like Eschenbach's stone, the Chintamani Stone is, apparently, also green in color, since Roerich is on record as also stating that the Chintamani Stone is similar in appearance to a species of meteorite known as Moldavite, which is dark green in color. If the Chintamani Stone is indeed Eschenbach's Stone of Heaven could it also be the original Philosophers Stone, which legends assert could turn a base metal into gold and a human into an immortal deity?

Ho! 'tis the time of salads.

When bullying April bruised mine eyes With sleet-bound appetites and crude Experiments of green, I still was wise And kissed the blossoming rod.

She looked at him fiercely, almost a glare, and Moody saw that her eyes, which he'd thought were hazel, were a deep jade green. At that moment Moody had a sudden clear understanding of what had already happened that morning: his life had been divided into a before and an after, and he would always be comparing the two.

Keep my memory green.

The beginning of spring training each year has always been a moment of hope, a reassurance that the landscape of snow and gray skies and barren trees will soon pass, and the world will again be green.

Envy is thin because it bites but never eats.

I dropped an olive into the martini like making a green wish.

Oh, come to the woods, the merry green woods, While gaily the autumn leaves fall. Just look overhead, 'mid leaves brown and red, The squirrels all chatter and call, "October is here, the Queen of the Year, Merry, merry, October!" Oh, out in the woods, the merry green woods, The fairies their revels will keep; Then, when it is dark, comes the Frost Spirit—hark! He is singing the flowers to sleep! "October is here, the Queen of the Year, Merry, merry October!"

Meridian sunbeams tempt him to unfold His radiant glories, azure, green and gold: He treads as if, some solemn music near, His measured step were govern'd by his ear; And seems to say—Ye meaner fowl, give place, I am all splendour, dignity, and grace!

Spring scarce had greener fields to show than these Of mid-September...

Do cartwheels in the green grass of happiness and skip high towards the blue heavenly skies of joy!

Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves, O flakes of snow, For which, through naked trees, the winds A-mourning go? Or are ye angels, bearing home The host unseen Of truant spirits, to be clad Again in green?

it's not a question but a lesson learned in time

The prevailing note in the Amazon is one of monotony," thought Kenneth Grubb, "the same green lines the river-bank, the same gloom fills the forest. . . . Each successive bend in the river is rounded in expectancy, only to reveal another identical stretch ahead.

after centuries of observation scientists are still not exactly sure why the Amazon—unlike other forests, where leaves turn brown during the dry season—grows green and lush when the rain stops or how this reversed pattern of photosynthesis contributes to the broader seasonal distribution of water throughout the region.

Oh Paris From red to green all the yellow dies away Paris Vancouver Hyeres Maintenon New York and the Antilles The window opens like an orange The beautiful fruit of light ("Windows")

Sleeping in the park in a city is a form of civilization. First, you need a city with enough bustle and clatter to make a person yearn for a calm, green spot. Then you need a first-class park,

Screams of pain, cries of rage and fury cut the green night like blades of sound.

But dandelions were what she chiefly saw. Yellow jewels for everyday studding the patched green dress of her back yard. She liked their demure prettiness second to their everydayness; for in that latter quality she thought she saw a picture of herself, and it was comforting to find that what was common could also be a flower.

Green with sleep the skin breathes night I hear you turning worlds in your dark dream The sheets like leaves in a private season Speak of singular self which lies between. Your breathing is a thing I cannot enter Like a season more remote than winter; Green with sleep breathes, breathes the skin, I hear you turning worlds in your dark dream.

A cloud began to cover the sun slowly, wholly, shadowing the bay in deeper green. It lay beneath him, a bowl of bitter waters. Fergus' song : I sang it alone in the house, holding down the long dark chords. her door was open : she wanted to hear my music. silent with aw and pity i went to her bedside. she was crying in her wretched bed for these words, Stephen : love's bitter mystery.

In the wide land under a tender lucid evening sky, a cloud drifting westward amid a pale green sea of heaven, they stood together, children that had erred.