Quotes About Rural

People are going to a place like Pugwash and that whole area to escape from industry, to have the serenity of the surroundings and the beauty.

I live in the rural area of North Georgia, so for me, those are these best days. It has little to do with humans and mostly to do with nature and what surrounds me.

If you care to define the South as a poor, rural region with lousy race relations, that South survives only in geographical shreds and patches and most Southerners don't live there any more.

It's very easy for Australians living in big cities to either romanticise or demonise the situation in Aboriginal places - to kind of look at things through the 'noble innocents' prism or through the 'chronically dysfunctional' prism, and I suspect that is so often the case.

I don't have many people showing up at my door. Very few people come out. When they do, I get a little suspicious. I live way up on a hill, way, way back in the country.

I want to be really proactive in working with the progressive business community in Australia and also reaching out to rural and regional Australia in order to assist in the sustainability crisis and the food security crisis.

My Swedish grandmother was the daughter of a dairy farmer who lived near Hedemora. My Swedish grandfather worked as a clerk for the Swedish railways in the Stockholm station.

I was born in the poor countryside. I was raised in the countryside, planting corn and selling sweets made by my grandmother.

On my grandmother's chicken farm, they had cows, and they had this big metal container that the cows drank out of, and we used to swim in it. And we used to get into the chicken feed bins and dive through them.

Agriculture is the backbone of the livelihood security system of nearly 700 million people in the country and we need to build our food security on the foundation of home grown food.

Chickadee ain't no reg'lar girl," Betty Jane announced. "She can outdo most menfolks around these here parts. Got the strength o' them bahrs she kills. Wouldn't never know it to look at her, though. Some say it's her spirit that gives her strength. But she's a livin' legend, shore and sartin.

I hate to play the I-live-in-the-country card, but it really takes all of the 'pack the kids into the car and run from here to there' out of the equation.

Yes, my buggy is outside and my horse has been acting up. I wondered if you could come rub its skull and tell me if it's got a bad case of stubborn, or if it might be indigestion?

Wide open! Some of these North Dakota towns made Russell, Kansas, look urban.)

And don't look for anything out of the law around here," she said. "The Cowgills and the Leapers is kin to the sheriff. No justice in these parts. It's every man for hisself." "But as the saying goes, if you can't get justice," Mrs. Dowdel remarked, "get even.

Hayseeds we might be, but we meant to be informed hayseeds.

farms on the lower slopes of the mountain. As the eye moved from

I asked my new friend, "Were you born here?" He thought about it, paused, and then said, "No, 'twas 'bout five miles down the road." Later, I asked him, "Have you lived here all your life?" He winked and said, "Not yet.

Shropshire, the fatlands of Gloucestershire

He missed having a wild green world on his doorstep - no rabbits or pheasants or badgers.

The interior looked like I expected. Two rooms--a main one and a tiny bedroom. Dusty stuffed fish and moth-eaten elk heads on bare walls. A wood plank floor that seemed as if it hadn't been swept in years. Cobwebs decorating the ceiling. Furniture that would have been rejected by Goodwill. Mouse droppings everywhere. A few dark furry bat forms hung from the upper eaves. In the city, the place would have been condemned as a public health hazard. Here, it was just a typical hunting shack.

Ma and Pa had taught their sons to keep themselves fresh by bathing at least once a year.

Most people in Kingsbridge could talk only about agriculture and adultery, neither of which interested her.

In the fall when they burn the stubble off the fields the sun gets this dusty hazy color, and the mare's-tail clouds whipping along near Wakonda Head look like goldenrod bent over by the wind. It's always real pretty. You can almost hear it ring in the sky.