Quotes About Compost

the worst events of human history that we cannot understand, even hell itself, are only compost in God's wonderful eternal plan. Out of the greatest evil, the death of Jesus, came the greatest good.

I can never waste water. If I cannot drink it I will use it to water the plants and I will never waste food. If it is inedible it goes on the compost heap.

I compost at home. I'm always taking old banana peels, eggshells, coffee beans, or whatever it is, and putting them in a compost bin and then using it in my backyard.

Rabbit Droppings

and he flew in to her from the clutter of Somerville, the compost heap behind the Harvard Yard.

And snow—snow is not my enemy, I tell him. Snow is God's way of telling people to slow down and rest and stay in bed for a day. And besides, snow always solves itself. Mixes with the leaves to form more earth, I tell him. Think compost, says I.

Everything looks better at a distance. If you made it up, you have to live it down. Everything is compost. There is no they—only us. It's a mistake to believe everything you think. You can get used to anything. Sometimes things are just as bad as they seem. It helps if you always have somebody to kiss goodnight.

Religion acts as a moral gardener, to weed out, or suppress, evil tendencies, which, like weeds and nettles, would shoot up spontaneously in the wonderful compost of the garden, if unwatched.

freshly picked hops heat up the way a compost pile does and have been known to catch fire.

In my opinion, if there is one extremely legitimate use for petroleum besides running wood chippers and front-end loaders to handle compost, it's making plastic for season extension. It parks many of the trucks [for cross-country produce transportation]. With the trucks parked, greenhouses, tall tunnels, and more seasonal, localized eating, can we feed ourselves? We still have to answer that burning question.

Bamboos can go from shining health to shabbiness in weeks. The problem is too much wind, too little water and tired compost.

I'm a chef, I'm a cook, I was created by this industry, and I like to think I'm giving back. But I'm not giving back because I can make a scallop souffle, I'm giving back because I can make compost.

Select a large bulb with several well-developed offsets. Clean off the soil from the offsets and pull them away from the parent bulb, taking care to preserve any roots. Prepare pots with a moist, sandy compost. Inset a single offset into each pot, and cover it with compast. Label, and water.

I've often wondered if the trade-off for growing up in the relative newness and freshness of the West Coast was befuddlement when it comes to historical preservation. We don't have many old things, and we don't really know what to do with the few that are around when our default response is to compost or field burn.

Be mindful of what supermarkets are doing and demand to see their business practices. Stop throwing away food. Compost as much as you can, eat as locally and as seasonally as you can. Share knowledge and information.

he laughed loudly, tossed his beer can and cigarette into the compost bin,

My youth would be like that, the slow decay of cherished myths—about politics and race, about love itself—until nothing was left but compost from which something authentic could finally begin to grow.

My family recycles paper and bottles, but I reckon a proper wormery for the garden compost would be the way to go.

Perhaps a novelist has a greater ability to forget than other men--he has to forget or become sterile. What he forgets is the compost of the imagination.

I thought I'd love to be a gardener because I grew up with a vegetable garden and I love being close to the Earth and growing things. At my home in L.A., I have a great garden and I grow all kinds of things. I even have a worm farm! The worms help create organic compost out of kitchen scraps.

My favored mulching method is to cover the ground between rows of plants with a year's worth of our saved newspapers; the paper and soy-based ink will decompose by autumn. Then we cover all that newsprint—comics, ax murderers, presidents, and all—with a deep layer of old straw. It is grand to walk down the rows dumping armloads of moldy grass glop onto the faces of your less favorite heads of state: a year in review, already starting to compost.

It is grand to walk down the rows dumping armloads of moldy grass glop onto the faces of your less favorite heads of state: a year in review, already starting to compost.

The realization that no matter what you do, no matter how many little mistakes you make, you are still probably going to come up with reasonably good, usable compost.

Deep down I suspect that many gardeners regard themselves as minor-league alchemists, transforming the dross of compost (and water and sunlight) into substances of rare value and beauty and power.