Quotes About Farm

Soon an Amish gray-topped buggy came along, clamored through the covered bridge, and continued down the lane to a farm over the hill. There was something about the horse-drawn carriages of the Amish that spoke of a slower pace of life and an earlier time where the things that mattered in life were always in the forefront.

I grew up on a farm in a small town where you do or say one thing and everybody knows about it. You see it happen, there's always the town gossip - 'Oh did you hear about so and so, or did you hear what went on in this household?' So I learned at a very young age just to keep my mouth shut.

This is what I love to do: I love to run through a field of wet grass that has not been mowed recently, I love to run, keeping my snout low to the ground so the grass and the sparkles of water cover my face. I imagine myself as a vacuum cleaner, sucking in all the smells. all the life, a spear of summer grass. It reminds me of my childhood, back on the farm in Spangle, where there was no rain but there was grass, there were fields, and I ran. ~ p208

Credeti c? tr?im în centrul universului. Eu v? spun c? tr?im în centrul curtii unei ferme. PoziÈ›ia noastr? este atat de obscur?, încat nu v? puteÈ›i da seama cât este de obscur?.

From the beginning, the prospect of American settlements in Texas was entirely dependent on slavery. It was no secret. Everyone knew it. Austin would say it over and over and over: The only reason Americans would come to Texas was to farm cotton, and they would not do that without slaves. They really didn't know any other way.

She was on course now, and had found satisfaction on other levels; writing stories not only involved secrecy, it also gave her all the pleadures of miniaturization. A world could be made in five pages and one that was more pleasing than a model farm. The childhood of a spoiled prince could be framed with half a page a moonlit dash through sleepy villages was one rhythmically emphatic sentence, falling in love could be achieved in a single word - a glance.

Prodded by the needs of the Union cause, the Republican Party created a strong national government that educated young men and gave them land to farm. Ultimately, the GOP abolished slavery, then gave freedmen the vote so they could protect their own economic interests.

I was a 'Duck Hunt' and 'Mario' guy, and stuff like that. I was never technologically driven. I never had all the cool, new toys. I was the youngest child, I wasn't the only child, so I wasn't spoiled as a kid. And, we were on the farm, so we didn't have a lot. Also, with computers, I'm not very good with them. I just check my email.

I worked on a farm. Played ball and loafed along the fishing and swimming holes of the White River, and my boyhood was not a lot different from that of other youngsters.

Upon the farm of the uncle with whom I lived, we did know of the mortgage as some dreadful damper on youthful hopes of things that could not be bought. I do have a vivid recollection that the major purpose of a farm was to produce a living right on the spot for the family.

In my early 20s, a friend and I worked for a few months on a sheep farm in New Zealand. Working with ewes, I learned a lot about the power of wool - how it keeps you cool when you're hot, warm when you're cold, dry when you're wet.

Organic olive farming was going to be a particularly tricky challenge, but Michel and I needed to take a risk and let the problems iron themselves out as we came up against them. It was time to make a leap of faith, just like we'd done when buying this farm.

I want to see the farm piece passed, but the nearly a trillion dollars in SNAP spending for food stamps is way too much.

Whenever I have a little time off, I try to go back to my farm in South Africa. I'll spend time with my family and hunt antelope, kudu and springbok. During a 2010 hunting trip, I tore some ligaments in my ankle when I stepped in a hole.

I'm a farmer! We have a farm that's part of the National Tropical Botanical Garden on Maui, and we raise macadamia nuts.

I'm a cowboy. I wear a hat. I drive a 4x4 Silverado diesel truck. I've got a farm.

I've removed legs from dogs on the bed of my truck on the farm.

First of all, I have to have trucks because I live most of my time on a horse farm, so I've gotta have trucks. It's in the northeast; I've got to have pickup trucks to move snow, number one. Number two, just if I'm driving, I don't have to have an SUV, but I want a big car.

We're setting up an urban farm for kids on more than 20 acres in New Orleans. We want to make this a world-class educational center for the community.

But when I look at this farm I keep thinking it's not whether I have the guts to go but if I have the guts to stay.

Our great adventure ran out of petrol and stopped on this farm.

Suddenly Fred closed his book and jumped to his feet. He pretended to be holding a microphone and facing a TV camera. "Hostiles broke out here in the early hours following a dispute over supplies," he said in a breathless reporter's voice. "The Red Cross have asked for a cease fire at ten-thirty to bury the dead, evacuate the wounded, and so that everyone can go to the loo. This is Fred Parsons in the war zone at Walnut Farm, handing you back to the studio.

The snow lay thin and apologetic over the world. That wide grey sweep was the lawn, with the straggling trees of the orchard still dark beyond; the white squares were the roofs of the garage, the old barn, the rabbit hutches, the chicken coops. Further back there were only the flat fields of Dawson's farm, dimly white-striped. All the broad sky was grey, full of more snow that refused to fall. There was no colour anywhere.

I've got a different life. I live up on a farm; I don't have anything to do with social media.