Quotes About Rural

a heavy croker sack hanging pendant from a chestnut limb.

around which pigs and barefoot children grunted in loving communion of dirt.

This is rural England, after all; please set your watch back thirty years 

To empower the women in rural areas, we have started something called Mission Shakti.

Air service is an important asset for rural communities in Mississippi.

I grew up in Montana and played football my whole life.

I, a late riser, fantasise about getting up every morning at 5 A.M. to fetch the horses in from the fields.

Mali exists mostly to itself. Few people go there. Few Malians leave. Most of Mali's 13 million people live, and seem to live quite happily, off the rice, corn and millet they grow and the long-horn cattle and goats they keep.

There was dew on the flaccid wires of the fences and magpies were strung along them like beads.

We was just kids, we did kid stuff. And we didn't have things to do like people in the city. We couldn't catch the bus to the beach or the movies or hang out in big shopping malls. We had to ride everywhere or shanks it. Go for a milkshake at the roadhouse, check out the tip. Because there was no KFC or Subway. We'd walk along the highway looking for eagle feathers.

The world of the rural poor remained what it had been for generations: a day's walk in radius, a tight, well-trod loop between home, field, church, and, finally, a crowded family grave plot.

The mudders we'd met couldn't have been more open and hospitable. They'd generously shared their beverages, hobby, and attitudes-which together comprised a garish stereotype of the rural white South. Unlike Olmsted, I wasn't undercover. But I still felt like an infiltrator.

Until fairly recently it would only have been a slight exaggeration to say that most Norwegians, if they were not themselves farmers or fishermen, were their children.

The Indian peasant is the world's champion shitter. Stacks of chappaties and mounds of mustard leaf-mash down the hatch twice a day; stacks of shit a.m. and p.m.

Compare el centro antiguo de cualquier ciudad de Europa con sus modernos suburbios que proliferan por el campo. A continuación, compare la sección histológica de un tejido orgánico sano con la de un tumor maligno ¡Encontraremos analogías sorprendentes!

She was a typical tough Maine woman—able to shoot a deer, dress it and make venison chili in the same day.

It was sad to see the peasants' ingratitude. And their superstitions. And their stubborness. And so on, and so on.

There was no description of the years in town, of supplementing farm income with wages, or of the anxiety engendered by poverty.

Where is Wildene?" "Just step out the door and holler "Sooie! Sooie! She's a ho hog if ever I saw one. She'll come running.

I thought of walks in the English countryside, where people start shouting at you as soon as you stray from the footpath.

An old woman selling piglets from a basket stopped to stare at him, a knight with a half-familiar face went to one knee, and two men-at-arms pissing in a ditch turned and sprayed each other.

People tell me that the countryside must always be stupid and backward, and I get angry, as if it were said that only townspeople had immortal souls, and that it was only in the city that the flame of divinity breathed into the first men had an unobscured glow.

dropped in on my old shepherd friend Yani who provided us with some bread and fig cake and a straw hat full of wild strawberries to sustain us.

the bobbin of wool would rise and fall, twisting like a top, her fingers busy unravelling and plucking, and her drooping mouth with its hedge of broken and discoloured teeth wide open as she sang, loudly and harshly, but with great vigour. It was from Agathi that I learned some of the most beautiful and haunting of the peasant songs.