Quotes About Mud

But there's no beating the Great Leveller. No man comes back from the mud.

It is in fact a world of mud and faeces they desire, a world with no Art in it, or anyone like him, a place where there is no talk of books or God or the worlds beyond this world, a place where the only communication is the hysterical barking of starving and hate-filled dogs.

The past exudes legend: one can't make pure clay of time's mud. There is no life that can be recaptured wholly; as it was.Which is to say that all biography is ultimately fiction.

That is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life, running through the jungle in heels. Because also, mud was often times three feet deep, and that was full on for sure.

Like the lotus which thrives in mud, the potential for realization grows in the rich soil of everyday life

The only sound is the patter of the rain turning Saint-Malo into mud.

In a pit of mud, everyone looks like everyone else. It is the clean who are distinct. In a mob, everyone behaves like everyone else. It is the friend who is distinct.

A lot of my background is in theatre, so when you're on location, and the wind is really blowing, it's raining, and you've got mud all over you, it really keeps you on your toes.

Pero el campo, debo decirlo en seguida, yo nunca he podido apreciarlo, siempre me ha parecido triste, con sus lodazales interminables, sus casas donde la gente nunca está y sus caminos que no van a ninguna parte. Pero, si se le añade la guerra, además, ya es que no hay quien lo soporte.

Then how can you ever know about the beautiful goodness of Mud? How bad it wants to be things. How bad it wants to get on your legs and arms and take your footprints and handprints and how bad it wants you to make it alive! Mud is always ready to play with you. Seriously you should try it!

It seems that misery had cured his soul, to the point that it made him feel like mud.

There was no Christian resignation or philosophical acceptance in him. It seemed that misery had calloused his soul to the point of taking away the feeling of the mud.'' The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas- Machado de Asis

back as a mud-smashing

Once upon a slime, there was a disgusting princess called Mud Brown. She lived in a stinking bog with seven slobs called Stinky, Filthy, Snotty

November's days are thirty: November's earth is dirty, Those thirty days, from first to last; And the prettiest things on ground are the paths.... Few care for the mixture of earth and water, Twig, leaf, flint, thorn, Straw, feather, all that men scorn, Pounded up and sodden by flood, Condemned as mud.

The 'Jamestown' set was so convincing. It had been raining for a few days before we started filming, and when we turned up, we were knee-high in mud. There were pigs and goats everywhere, too, which meant the whole place smelled pretty ripe. It definitely helped us enter the 'Jamestown' world immediately.

You get into your wellie boots and your Range Rover and, walking around with six inches of mud on your shoes, you get to forget about that more polished lifestyle.

The dying: he sensed them all around him. Through the stink of mud and smoke rolled the smell of blood, heavy and sweetly enticing. His thirst rose, independent of his horror. Thirst and revulsion. The powerful tang of death and blood congealed in the back of his throat.

Watch them clamber, these swift monkeys! They clamber over one another and thus drag one another into the mud and the depth. They all want to get to the throne: that is their madness — as if happiness sat on the throne. Often, mud sits on the throne — and often the throne also on mud. Mad they all appear to me, clambering monkeys and overardent. Foul smells their idol, the cold monster: foul, they smell to me altogether, these idolators.

They all want to get to the throne: this is their madness—as if happiness were sitting on the throne! Often it is mud that sits on the throne—and often the throne also sits on mud.

In India, it's tough to shoot a period film outdoors. You cannot find mud roads without wires, signage and billboards with ads of mobile phones even in rural areas.

Mud is to jump in and slide in and yell dodoleedodoleedo.

Immortality and mortality didn't mix well: it was fire and mud, only the fire always won. The gods were never averse to making a mess. In fact they enjoyed it.

We pretended to be of mud instead of stars. We pretended not to fly.