Quotes About Grass

I remember my first visit with my guru. He had shown that he read my mind. So I looked at the grass and I thought, 'My god, he's going to know all the things I don't want people to know.' I was really embarrassed. Then I looked up and he was looking directly at me with unconditional love.

I still drink vodka; I'm not an advocate of drinking, but I'm no angel. I don't like grass, because it just makes me hungry.

I reflected that even in the languages of humans there is no proposition that does not imply the entire universe; to say the jaguar is to say all the jaguars that engendered it, the deer and turtles it has devoured, the grass that fed the deer, the earth that was mother to the grass, the sky that gave light to the earth

the All is everywhere, and anywhere may become the seat of power. Any blade of grass may assume, in myth, the figure of the savior and conduct the questing wanderer into the sanctum sanctorum of his own heart.

I found courage in the countryside, in nature. Being alone never frightened me, even at night, provided I was in contact with my surroundings - with the grass underfoot, with the dim shapes of trees and distant mountains. This was what I clung to.

I allow myself eddies of meaning: yield to a direction of significance running like a stream through the geography of my work: you can find in my sayings swerves of action like the inlet's cutting edge: there are dunes of motion, organizations of grass, white sandy paths or remembrance in the overall wandering of mirroring mind: but Overall is beyond me — A.R. Ammons, from "Corsons Inlet," Collected Poems: 1951-1971 (W. W. Norton & Co., 1972)

CITIZENS, we bring good news! In your kitchens, in your offices, on your factory floors—wherever you hear this broadcast, turn up the volume! The first success we have to report is that our Grass into Meat Campaign is a complete

We can't all have gleaming grass, cut to the millimetre, perfectly manicured and watered when needed and looked after by 10 groundsmen. Not everyone can be at these clubs.

To thee, to thee, my fire! Thou hast been burning in my heart all these futile years. If my life were a piece of gold it would come out of its trial brighter, but it is a trodden turf of grass, and nothing remains of it but this handful of ashes.

In the moon thou sendest thy love letters to me," said the night to the sun. "I leave my answers in tears upon the grass.

THE mighty desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away.

Let all the strains of joy mingle in my last song---the joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess of the grass, the joy that sets the twin brothers, life and death, dancing over the wide world, the joy that sweeps in with the tempest, shaking and waking all life with laughter, the joy that sits still with its tears on the open red lotus of pain, and the joy that throws everything it has upon the dust, and knows not a word.

To thee, to thee, O my beauty, my fire! Thou hast been burning in my heart all these futile years. If my life were a piece of gold it would come out of its trial brighter, but it is a trodden turf of grass, and nothing remains of it but this handful of ashes.

such strange, violent impulses were coming over me, one after another. I wanted to lie down and hammer my fists on the grass- I wanted to experience a complete loss of control.

My game is suited to grass because I'm really aggressive on the court. I have a big serve, I'm quick, I hit the ball hard, and I go to net so I have everything a player needs to do well on grass.

I like grass, I enjoy it and it suits my game.

We are bombarded with reasons to stay inside: we're afraid of mosquitoes because of West Nile and grass because of pesticides and sun because of cancer and sunscreen because of vitamin-D deficiency.

Oh, the luxury of lying in the fern night and the grass night and the night of the susurrant, slumbrous voices weaving the night together.

About this grass now. I didn't finish telling. It grows so close it's guaranteed to kill off clover and dandelions- Great God in heaven! That means no dandelion wine next year! That means no bees crossing our lot! You're out of your mind, son

Bet I know something else you don't. There's dew on the grass in the morning.

The train? Pulled off on a spur in the warming grass, it was old, yes, and welded tight with rust, but it looked like a titanic magnet that had collected to itself, from locomotive boneyards across three continents, drive shafts, fly-wheels, smoke stacks, and hand-me-down second-rate nightmares. It did not cut a black and mortuary silhouette. It asked permission but to lie dead in autumn strewings, so much tired steam and iron gunpowder blowing away.

The moon had spread over everything a thin layer of silver - over the rank grass, over the mud, upon the wall of matted vegetation standing higher than the wall of a temple, over the great river I could see through a sombre gap glittering, glittering, as it flowed broadly by without a murmur. All this was great, expectant, mute, while the man jabbered about himself.

This is Nature - the balance of colossal forces... the mighty Cosmos in perfect equilibrium produces - this...sometimes it seems to me that man is come where he is not wanted...why should he run about here and there, talking about the stars, disturbing the blades of grass? from Lord Jim

The sun was low; and leaning forward side by side, they seemed to be tugging painfully uphill their two ridiculous shadows of unequal length, that trailed behind them slowly over the tall grass without bending a single blade.