Quotes About Ground

By mining the forests upstream for firewood and floating the logs downriver to the city, they were removing ground cover and increasing the likelihood of catastrophic floods.

Landscape," in this case, is meant exactly—Amazonian Indians literally created the ground beneath their feet.

Insurance companies are nothing more than a dumping ground for risk; for an appropriate fee, you can have them assume a risk for you.

The good thing is, the season of chocolates is during the cold months. During the cold months, I can send ground.

Stephen Bassett, director of Paradigm Research Group, quips: "It's not just about lights in the sky: it's about lies on the ground." In recent years, by way of demeaning the subject, the media frequently belittles those involved in UFO research as "conspiracy theorists." But conspiracies there are, and researchers are justified in theorizing thereon.

Time always approaches from behind Growling and flowing past our eyes Stand your ground No matter how much time shows its fangs In order to wash you away to a beautiful past Do not look forward Your hopes creep up behind you Only existing in dark turbid waters

For the Marines, it validated their claim of "first to fight." They were the first Allied ground force to take the offensive against Axis forces in World War II, a point they still take pride in today.

The uncharming qualities of capitalism are its middle ground.

spent much of my life in Lyme with my eyes fixed to the ground in search of fossils. Such hunting can limit a person's perspective.

Phryne escaped from the babble to go outside and scan the ground in front of the broken window.

From all accounts, it seems the faithful opposition is reduced to Gideon's 300. The day has arrived for Christians to engage the battle...From now on, true Christians will engage the battle of ideas in academy. The time for giving up ground is over. Now we must fight. We must engage the [B]iblical worldview vigorously in the world of great literature. The greatests wars ever fought in history are not those fought by sword or artillery. The greatest battles are engaged in the realm of ideas

Do not believe angels are easy. Instead, terrible, terrific in the oldest sense-- the ground giving way beneath your feet.

I was cold, hungry, and in a hole in the ground. But at least I had my elven porn, damnit!

And walk not proudly on the earth verily thou shalt never cleave the earth, nor reach to the mountains in height

Finally it was my turn. I held up the bottom of my gown and delicately stepped onto the ramp. For some odd reason I was reminded of the movie Titanic and the scene where Rose stepped off solid ground in her dress for the last time. All I was missing was a wide brimmed hat and a prescription grade case of resentment. Day, Kristen (2014-09-22). Forsaken (Book #1) (Daughters of the Sea) (p. 198). Kristen Day Books. Kindle Edition.

It is entropy, not energy, that keeps stones on the ground and the world turning.

He swept the ears to the floor with his arm and held the last of his wine in the air. Something for your poetry, no? he said. Some of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice. Some of the ears on the floor were pressed to the ground.

The ground was so far below him, he could barely make it out through the grey mists that whirled around him, but he could feel how fast he was falling, and he knew what was waiting for him down there. Even in dreams, you could not fall forever. He would wake up in the instant before he hit the ground, he knew. You always woke in the instant before you hit the ground.

I dreamed of you and a dead dragon, Egg's brother Daeron said to him. A great beast, huge, with wings so large they could cover this meadow. It had fallen on top of you, but you were alive and the dragon was dead. And so he was, poor Baelor. Dreams were a treacherous ground on which to build.

If it's softer than the ground and has a roof over it, I call it a bed. Dolorous Edd sniffed the air. I smell dung.

Why should death make a man truthful, or even clever? The dead are likely dull fellows, full of tedious complaints- the ground's too cold, my gravestone should be larger, why does he get more worms than I do...

Beneath the dragonglass was an old warhorn, made from an aurochs' horn and banded in bronze. Jon shook the dirt from inside it, and a stream of arrowheads fell out. He let them fall, and pulled up a corner of the cloth the weapons had been wrapped in, rubbing it between his fingers. Good wool, thick, a double weave, damp but not rotted. It could not have been long in the ground. And it was dark. He seized a handful and pulled it close to the torch. Not dark. Black.

A horse loves freedom, and the weariest old work horse will roll on the ground or break into a lumbering gallop when he is turned loose into the open.

There is a certain satisfaction in coming down to the lowest ground of politics, for then we get rid of cant and hypocrisy.