Quotes About Barn

I made all these great musicals with Judy Garland. It was all about me going into a barn and saying: 'Let's put on a show.' That's what me and Judy did.

airman in the barn. What should be done? The question haunted her all day, reasserting itself constantly. Every choice was dangerous. Obviously she should just keep quiet about the airman in the barn. Silence was always safest. But what if Beck and the Gestapo and the SS and their dogs went into the barn on their own? If Beck found the airman in a barn on the property where he was billeted, the Kommandant would not be

I milked, of course, and did some work around the barn, and tried not to think about Brian, which was like trying not to breathe.

The ticking was gone from my mind and all was quiet everywhere in the world and I held the curtain like I held the sound of the bullets going into the draft horse, his favourite, in the barn, one two three, and I stood at the window in Stevie's jacket and looked and waited and still the rain kept coming down outside one two three and I was thinking oh what a small sky for so much rain.

Only a fool closes the door when the wolf is already inside the barn.

It's nice, Tom. I never milked in a barn so nice.

Throughout the farming areas of Ohio, for instance, almost every little barn and building had an elaborate lightning conductor; there was an amazing number of these rods bristling on buildings throughout the state. Now, compared with any of the other neighboring states, Ohio is not more subject to lightning: it seemed to me that the enterprise of some persuasive salesman had left its mark. Of

Len Colter sat in the shade under the wall of the horse barn, eating pone and sweet butter and contemplating a sin.

The holiday season is a time for storytelling, and whether you are hearing the story of a candelabra staying lit for more than a week, or a baby born in a barn without proper medical supervision, these stories often feature miracles. Miracles are like pimples, because once you start looking for them you find more than you ever dreamed you'd see, and this holiday story features any number of miracles, depending on your point of view.

in late sixteenth-century Stratford-upon-Avon, where malting was the town's principal industry, anybody with a bit of spare change and a barn was storing as much grain as possible.

Hmm, What did I love? I think all the scents. Mama's lilac trees, and the wild iris in the fields, and rain on the breeze on a hot day. Apple and pear blossoms. The hay just cut. The mix of odors in the barn when the sunlight was shafting through the cracks in the boards, heating everything up.

I really wanted to find a piano for the farm house. There were so many free pianos on Craigslist, I thought, 'Let's get as many free pianos as we can and stick them all in the barn.' I got eight in a short period of time, only six of which were tunable, but it's still quite funny.

Nothing is as good as the smell of horse shit. You know, the streets are swept clean now, and all the horses are gone, so there is nothing in the air but the soot of your burning engines…that's why I like to sleep in a barn, to be close to real smells. Horse shit and horse farts. Those are the smells of real life.

My mom grew up with horses, and when I turned 14, 15, she's like, 'Do you want to take a riding lesson?' I thought, 'Oh, gross, dirty.' She was like, 'Okay.' And then I did, and now I'm the one cleaning those damn stalls out. You can't get me away from the barn now. It shocks even me.

He pushes the doors open and calls the sheep, standing back out of the way as they come in and crowd to the troughs. He stays there a while, looking over the field, making sure that none has been left out. He feels growing in him now, in spite of all, a familiar and precious calm. The flock is in the barn, well fed, safe from dogs and the cold, warmly bedded. They will be there safe until morning. If not today, on most of the winter days of his life this completeness has filled his mind.

Standing in the stanchion barn while the cows are being milked, I am impressed by how quietly the work is done. No voice is raised. There is never a sudden or violent motion. Although the work is quickly done, no one rushes. And finally comes the realization that the room is quiet because it is orderly:

I was so naive as a kid I used to sneak behind the barn and do nothing.

The barn was dark from the storm, and we couldn't find the harness, which no one had used in years. Old Jake, who had sprained his good foot falling off a horse and was hobbling around worse than ever, started getting panicky at the idea of the dam giving out and washing away the cattle, but I told him to hush his mouth. We all knew what was at stake, and if we were going to save the ranch, we needed clear heads.

I milked, of course, and did some work around the barn, and tried not to think about Brian, which was like trying not to breathe.

Mr. Furrow jerked a thumb toward the mule in the back of the barn. "Rabbit'll kill anything comes near his carrot if he hasn't done with it. And he'll kick you if you make him go too fast in the field. I'd whip him, but he's so old a whipping might kill him, and he's our last and only mule. So we just keep away from his carrot and we keep it slow. That's the rules with Rabbit.

She sometimes found herself standing in the barn watching her fowl pecking the seed, feeling happy until she realised she wasn't.

Do not let a flattering woman coax and wheedle you and deceive you she is after your barn.

When I reach the end of one row, I continue straight on away from the barn and the farm and the road. I walk until I come to a pile of hay bales and plop myself down. The sun is bright and the air is sharp. In the distance I hear the lowing of cows. It's so peaceful here. "Merry Christmas, " I whisper to myself. "Merry Christmas, Nate.

Talking about theater, actually, I built a little barn in upstate New York, and I call it 'the smallest theater in the world,' but it has a mini stage and a red velvet curtain.