Quotes About Muck

War did not just level, it plowed the field, raising the muck and sinking the stubble.

Cnán knew these gleaners and their types well enough that she could pick them out even in a healthy city. Not always were they the furtive criminals or crazed drunks. Indeed, within her short life, she had seen drunks rise to glorious battle and city fathers turn into ghouls. War did not just level, it plowed the field, raising the muck and sinking the stubble.

You are evil like all existence. ... If power were mine I would crush the universe to bloody gravel and stamp into the ultimate muck!

I'm a connoisseur of the poppy. I know my stuff. This diluted muck barely passes muster.

One day it would be over for all, that terrible dream of everlasting changes that held us to a place that never should have been if its greatest intention led only to wallowing in the muck of eternity.

There was a push, in the Sixties and Seventies, to rename science fiction as "speculative fiction" just to try and escape all that baggage. But the truth is that science fiction is like a big old pustule that burst open at the top of the 21st Century, and its muck got into everything. We now live in a world infused with science fiction. Little infections in everything.

The books talked about it [the heart] as if it were a sump pump stuck down in the muck and mire of somebody's backyard. Never in all my scientific reading did I encounter anything that talked about a broken heart. Never did I read anything about what the heart felt, how it felt or why it felt. Feeling and knowing weren't important, only understanding

It's business, selling comics, you work out what sells and you don't want to muck about with it too much.

I am going to have to stick to the script. If I muck around with the words it will defeat the object.

Bill-E his knife. He grimaces and tries to wipe the muck off on his

What on earth is modern exegesis up to? Oh, little lazy one! Some red wine and up! Off you go, brandishing your fork, stripped of Ophelia's useless ornaments, fire in your large nostrils, out to rake the muck of metaphors.

It gets to seem as if way back in the Garden of Eden after the Fall, Adam and Eve had begged the Lord to forgive them and He, in his boundless exasperation had said, All right, then. Stay. Stay in the Garden. Get civilized. Procreate. Muck it up. And they did.

This muck heaves and palpitates. It is multi-directional and has a mayor.

To experience some healing within yourself, and to contribute healing to the world, you are summoned to wade through the muck from time to time.

You can rake the muck this way, rake the muck that way-- it will always be muck. Have I sinned or have I not sinned? In the time I am brooding over it, I could be stringing pearls for the delight of Heaven

Des créatures crasseuses et méchantes, brutales, parfaitement stupides, qui vivent dans le sang, la haine et leurs propres excréments. Ils s'agglutinent là, dans la nuit, comme de grosses mouches à merde autour de vitrines de luxe désertes.

But the wicked are like the storm-tossed sea, for it cannot be still, and its waves churn up mire and muck.