Quotes About Grass

It's an urban November P.M.: very last leaves down, dry gray hairy grass, brittle bushes, gap-toothed trees. The rising moon looks like it doesn't feel very well.

If you see a fairy ring In a field of grass, Very lightly step around, Tiptoe as you pass; Last night fairies frolicked there, And they're sleeping somewhere near.

sound rose up from the grass to their left followed

I RESTORE lost love. Act now! Special offer! You lie on last year's grass bathed in sunlight to the chin while winds of summers past caress your hair and seem to lead you in a dance. For further details, write: Dream.

Hoy en día, el doctor Hartmann cree que el mejor consejo para la prevención de lesiones es el que escuchó de boca de un entrenador que recomendaba «correr descalzo sobre césped húmedo tres veces a la semana». No

She sat in the dew-damp grass and ripped up clumps of it, tossing them in the air and feeling vaguely guilty about it. Some gnome ought to pop out of the tree and scold her for torturing the lawn.

My thoughts of longing are like the smoke grass, That grows always in profusion, winter or spring!

The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older.

Thunder growled in the distance, a beast prowling the countryside, hungry and snuffling the air for blood. He crossed the wet grass of the side yard, traversed the sidewalk. It was the same track he'd taken a thousand times before. Tonight would be the last.

Somewhere, things must be beautiful and vivid. Somewhere else, life has to be beautiful and vivid and rich. Not like this muted palette -a pale blue bedroom, washed out sunny sky, dull green yellow brown of the fields. Here, I know ever twist of every road, every blade of grass, every face in this town, and I am suffocating.

I'm not here to say I don't eat vegetables - I do, a lot of them - but, from a soil perspective, they're actually more costly than a cow grazing on grass.

Traffic lurched forward. I crawled slowly past a flatbed truck that was pulled off onto the grass beside the road. The hood of the truck was up. Seven or eight men in dingy clothes sat on the bed of the truck. They were waiting, too, but they seemed a little happier about it than I was. Maybe they weren't being pursued by an insane homicidal artist.

Strange that Nature's voices all around them — the soft singing of the waters, the whisperings of the river grass, the music of the rushing wind — should not have taught them a truer meaning of life than this. They listened there, through the long days, in silence, waiting for a voice from heaven; and all day long and through the solemn night it spoke to them in myriad tones, and they heard it not.

Washington, D.C. is so confusing in the spring. The days grow increasingly hot and humid, but the nights hold on to winter for as long as possible. On some days the grass is still frosted over in the mornings, stiff and crunchy, even if it wilts before the first class starts. If you are not careful you get caught in the weather's nostalgia and at night, a windbreaker or a sweater isn't enough.

In the plains the grass grows tall, since there is no one to cut it. There is no one to water it either.

He saw the sunlight leave the grass like an eye suddenly closed.

The park was a scruffy patch of grass, muddy in winter and dusty in summer, set about with a few dozen trees, a bandstand, and a pond on which swam a family of depraved and malevolent ducks.

A sense of calm settled over Tenaka. An inner peace seemed to pulse from the very earth at his feet, from the distant blue mountain, to whisper in the long grass of the Steppes. He closed his eyes and opened his ears to the music of silence.

We were swimmers in a dusty yellow smell and sometimes overpower with the occasional stink of dung. If it was from a herbivore, the dung would have a grassy smell. If it was from a predator, it had a darker stink, sometimes so bad I could smell it in the helmet. Some of the piles of dung were as tall as Marley and moist though fortunately not steaming that would have meant we were way close to something dangerous.

People who've never been out in the grass don't get it. I didn't understand what Jamie was talking about until I stood in the middle of a furrow, looking around at this very narrow world, a shadow valley with only a strip of sky above to remember there's a horizen somewhere.

hot and dry early that year, and by the Fourth of July the grass was parched and brown and stubby. The young Teddy Roosevelt, traveling through the north part of Dakota Territory on the way to his ranches near Medora, told a newspaper reporter in mid-July that "Between the drouth, the

Green tea? You can't be serious. The old woman nodded her approval. I wasn't. Because you know when a cow chews grass? And he or she chews and chews and chews? Well, green tea tastes like French-kissing that cow after it's done chewing all that grass.

He must be some escaped lunatic. Said an early Boston review of Leaves of Grass.

They rode, eighteen ill-natured, uncomfortable cowboys, tumultuously away from the camp, where canvas bulged and swayed, and loose corners cracked like pistol shots, over the hill where even the short, prairie grass crouched and flattened itself against the sod; where stray pebbles, loosened by the ungentle tread of pitching hoofs, skidded twice as far as in calm weather.