Quotes About Rocks

The spirit of Greece, passing through and ascending above the world, hath so animated universal nature, that the very rocks and woods, the very torrents and wilds burst forth with it.

The screwball's an unnatural pitch. Nature never intended a man to turn his hand like that throwing rocks at a bear.

Overall, rocks, wood and water, brooded the spirit of repose, and the silent energy of nature stirred the soul to its innermost depths.

Nature is always lovely, invincible, glad, whatever is done and suffered by her creatures. All scars she heals, whether in rocks or water or sky or hearts.

It was extremely difficult to keep up any pace over the rocks since they were so unpredictable and devoid of reason. Their senselessness had never so much impressed me.

Water purling between the rocks, weed under the surface like green hair in the wind.

Music has charms to soothe the savage breast To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music hath charm to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music has charms to soothe a savage breast,To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.N.B. This quote is commonly misquoted as savage beast.

Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

One smile on the brown hills and naked trees, And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast, And the blue gentian flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.

The bar was jammed with the Happy Hour crowd. I elbowed through the press and ordered a double Manhattan on the rocks. When it came, I took a long swallow and struggled back with

Serdukov looked at the coast, assaulted by waves, rocks becoming sand.

I have a crush on Steve Tyler. He's funny, he rocks, and has a voice like a god. There is another one who I have discovered can sing. I should try and make an album with him... it's Barack Obama!

Too many rocks in the mountains.

Too often in recent history liberal governments have been wrecked on rocks of loose fiscal policy.

A secret at home is like rocks under tide.

Hunting for meteorites is like trying to find a pebble on miles of beach.

I know a place on this Earth that contains wonders enough to stop the breath. A place where the very rocks whisper and whine, where the rivers boil and the snow-studded peaks thrust into a bowl of blue; where great shaggy beasts press the earth with cloven hooves or threaten with claw and fang; where new life and lurking death coexist in the shallows of varicolored pools.

I do like rocks. I had a terrible trauma this week: I didn't know what had become of my favorite rock. And I thought, Oh my God, I can't live. Fortunately, it was found.

At last, giving me the boat's sail for a bed, he stretched himself out on the jagged rocks, and slept soundly as the unsanctified in a comfortable pew of a church; --I wish the benches were softer, and the cushions higher, as then more people might be tempted to take a nap; it is my only reason for never going.

But I plucked a new, different, worldly soul for myself -- maybe a soul I found in the spray thrown up by the surge of that distant African river as it plummets onto black rocks and sends up into the sun a permanent arc of a rainbow.