Quotes About Grass

And now it has risen above the massive and lofty tree, and throws its pleasant shadow down upon the earth—pleasant shadow that paces along the meadows, leaving behind a greater brilliancy on tree, and grass, and hedge, and flower than what, for a moment, it had eclipsed.

This dream the world is having about itself includes a trace on the plains of the Oregon trail, a groove in the grass my father showed us all one day while meadowlarks were trying to tell something better about to happen.

All things that love the sun are out of doors; The sky rejoices in the morning's birth; The grass is bright with rain-drops;—on the moors The hare is running races in her mirth; And with her feet she from the plashy earth Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun, Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run.

Clearly she had been forgiven, but they had also settled into the maddening familiarity of friendship; maddening for her at least, lying on the fresh spring grass, their hands almost touching as he told her about Lola, this incredible Spanish girl he'd met while skiing in the Pyrenees.

Where the grass is greener, the water bill is bigger.

All was iris-blue, earth and sky together, with a cluster of clouds in the west. The young sun made his way, knee-deep in the grass. The wind scattered the dew like a lively colt. It sent up flights of birds which swam for a while among the waves of the sky, as if drunk and dizzy from screaming, and then suddenly dropped, like handfuls of stones.

They went down to the stream. It was all bearded with dirty grasses and was grumbling, for the rains had filled it with water. So it complained. It complained of being too fat. It was never satisfied. In summer it spent its time moaning that it was going to die, and then...Streams were always like that.

Time that withers you will wither me. We will fall like ripe fruit and roll down the grass together. Dear friend, let me lie beside you watching the clouds until the earth covers us and we are gone.

If a summer were a girl, she'd always be lying stretched out in the grass in a long white dress, her arms over her head, her eyes half closed.

They're called rollerblades, she said. Rollerblades, Daniel said. Right. Well? And you can't rollerblade on grass, she said. Can't you? Daniel said. How very disappointing truth is sometimes. Can't we try? There'd be no point, she said. Can't we try anyway? he said. We might disprove the general consensus. Okay, Elisabeth said.

Early in the morning a heavy dew lay on the ground, and the horses and cattle left tracks in the spangled grass, and hollow imprints where they had slept. The world was exquisite, delicate as a mother-of-pearl shell.

In North Korea, grass is a vegetable eaten by the people, and they've got nuclear weapons and intercontinental ballistic missiles. So, something more stringent than what's been done to North Korea is going to have to work; otherwise, a military strike is the only option.

Mikhail Youzhny likes the grass and has plenty of weapons to hurt you with.

I love the smell of freshly cut grass. It takes me back to summers in Maine.

I cannot leave it; I must stay under the old tree in the midst of the long grass, the luxury of the leaves, and the song in the very air. I seem as if I could feel all the glowing life the sunshine gives and the south wind calls to being.

Maggie jumped to a full alert, her eyes locked on the greasy cube. Scott threw it hard, and Maggie sprinted after it. The chunk bounced and skipped through the grass thirty yards away. Scott didn't know if she could see it, but canine eyes were far more sensitive to motion than human eyes, and her nose would do the rest. Maggie's

The enormous snow was set down far away. Sometimes I must use my love as the only way to describe it, and must hire the wind to demonstrate the wailing of women. It's hard for stones that roll from season to season to remember the dreamers and the whisperers in the grass, who fell in their love. And like a man who keeps shaking his wrist when his watch stops: Who is shaking us? Who?

The sun's champagne streamed from one body into another. And there was a couple on the green silk of the grass, covered by a raspberry umbrella. Only their feet and a little bit of lace could be seen. In the magnificent universe beneath the raspberry umbrella, with closed eyes, they drank in the sparkling madness ... they were immortal. What did it matter that in another far-away universe people would be killing each other?

To the Indians it seemed that these Europeans hated everything in nature - the living forests and their birds and beasts, the grassy grades, the water, the soil, the air itself.

Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom golden in the green grass, this life can be.

The greenest of pastures are right here on earth.

I listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

And then to dwell in sovereign barns, And dream the days away,— The grass so little has to do, I wish I were the hay!

Rainwater diluted redness, created a pink death, his matter mixing through mud and grass.