Quotes About Lawns

In the drowsy heat of the summer afternoon the Red House was taking its siesta. There was a lazy murmur of bees in the flower-borders, a gentle cooing of pigeons in the tops of the elms. From distant lawns came the whir of a mowing-machine, that most restful of all country sounds; making ease the sweeter in that it is taken while others are working.

And her smile showed for a moment, even as the moon came out of the clouds and went away. Isn't it silly? No. Men do the same. They take long walks when they're sixteen, seventeen. They don't stand on lawns, waiting, no. But, my God, how they walk! Miles and miles from midnight until dawn and come home exhausted and explode and die in bed.

an animal wonder like a pair of sneakers rabbiting the lawns of early morning.

The government could take away all the drugs in the world and people would spin around on their lawns until they fell down and saw God.

The last stretch of our walk was along a curving gravel path that wound through lawns, shrubs, trees, and different-shaped patches of bare earth. Living in the country would be more convenient if they would repeal the law against paths that go straight from one place to another place.

Bed is the only place for protracted telephoning. It is also execellently suited to reading, sleeping and listening to canaries. It is not a good place for sex: sex should take place in armchairs, or in bathrooms, or on lawns which have been brushed but not too recently mown, or on sandy beaches if you happen to have been circumcised. If you are too tired to have intercourse except in bed you are probably too tired anyway and should be husbanding your strength.

Our lawns manifest our cultural desire: they are static, they are artificial, and they are kept sexually immature.

The Sun Has Burst The Sky The sun has burst the sky Because I love you And the river its banks. The sea laps the great rocks Because I love you And takes no heed of the moon dragging it away And saying coldly 'Constancy is not for you'. The blackbird fills the air Because I love you With spring and lawns and shadows falling on lawns. The people walk in the street and laugh I love you And far down the river ships sound their hooters Crazy with joy because I love you

Darkwater, the faded rose many-chimneyed house, the lawns, the trees heavy with summer, the strutting peacocks, the distant flicker of the lake.

But now my soul, unused to stretch her powers In flight so daring, drops her weary wing, And seeks again the known accustomed spot, Drest up with sun, and shade, and lawns, and streams, A mansion fair, and spacious for its guest, And full replete with wonders.

and taking their time, walking slowly, like tourists, even though this is a landscape they know inside out. The streetlamps cast a hazy glow, the light of a dream you're not quite finished waking from. Fireflies drift across the lawns.

December sucks the light from the castle. The sun hardly clears the horizon before sinking away. Snow falls once, twice, then stays locked over the lawns.

My earliest memory is a picnic in the park near our house, which was next to Wimbledon Common. Why on earth we went to a park when we lived so near the common is a mystery, but it had formal gardens and lawns - perhaps it was that very difference that took my parents there.

Because we can't escape our ancient hunger to live close to nature, we encircle the house with lawns and gardens, install picture windows, adopt pets and Boston ferns, and scent everything that touches our lives.

I love the outdoor festival feeling. When I'm on stage, it's very gratifying to watch people on the lawns enjoying the music with a glass of wine.

From a magician's midnight sleeve the radio-singers distribute all their love-songs over the dew-wet lawns.

I just listened to the music, and breathed in the day, and remembered things. Things like walking around the neighborhood and looking at the houses and the lawns and the colorful trees and having that be enough.

America is the land of wide lawns and narrow minds.

A lot of parts of L.A. are interchangeable with suburbs in Joburg. Very big, ostentatious houses with palm trees and lawns. Lawns are very important. Never underestimate lawns.

Lawns, I am convinced, are a symptom of, and a metaphor for, our skewed relationship to the land. They teach us that, with the help of petrochemicals and technology, we can bend nature to our will. Lawns stoke our hubris with regard to the land.

I began to wonder, what accounts for our collective affinity for the apocalypse? What is it about "the end" that makes it always seem just around the corner? And why do lawns in post-apocalyptic always appear freshly mowed if there's no one around to do it but the zombies?

My men like satyrs grazing on the lawns, / Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.

My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, shall with their goat feet dance the antic hay.

Monsters didn't live in your bedroom. They lived in your town or one just like it. They probably had jobs and neighbors and maybe waved to people passing by as they mowed their lawns.