Quotes About Plains

While Pickstown may not be what it once was, it still is framed by the natural beauty of the ancient river, the sweep of the Great Plains, and the long, unbroken shoreline of the lake behind the dam. It gave me a 19th-century childhood in a modern mid-20th-century town, and for that I will always be grateful.

Pleasant it to behold great encounters of warfare arrayed over the plains, with no part of yours in peril.

I, the fiery life of divine wisdom, I ignite the beauty of the plains, I sparkle the water, I burn in the sun, and the moon, and the stars.

He gazed into the darkness at the flickering shadows. Above the tops of the trees on the opposite side of the river, he could see endless stretches of starlit sky. He longed for home where the plains stretched forever, where the wind sighed through the river canyons, sweet with the smell of grass and mesquite. If only his friends hadn't come across a mute yellow-hair and ridden to tell him.

Deep black, brown, and gray cloud banks were shifting across the sky like tumbleweed across the plains.

Fertile soil, level plains, easy passage across the mountains, coal, iron, and other metals imbedded in the rocks, and a stimulating climate, all shower their blessings upon man.

Half of all US tornadoes hit in the central plains;

Official education was telling people almost nothing of the nature of all those things on the seashores, and in the redwood forests, in the deserts and in the plains.

And sleep that night on the cold plains of a foreign land, forty-six men wrapped in their blankets under the selfsame stars, the prairie wolves so like in their yammering, yet all about so changed and strange.

Lejos, en la llanura, en la noche sin orilla, podían ver como en un reflejo de su propio fuego en un lago oscuro el fuego de los vaqueros a unos ocho kilómetros. Por la noche llovió y la lluvia silbó en el fuego y los caballos se acercaron desde la oscuridad con sus ojos rojos parpadeando inquietos y por la mañana hacía frío y todo era gris y el sol tardó mucho en salir.

landlocked Wisconsin

We the people of Montana, grateful to God for the quiet beauty of our state, the grandeur of its mountains, the vastness of its rolling plains Ã¢â'¬Â¦

The one-way plow would later be cursed as the tool that destroyed the plains because of its efficiency at ripping up grass.

One chart showed how quickly the grass was overturned. In 1879, ten million acres were plowed. Fifty years later, the total was one hundred million acres. Grass was needed to hold the soil in place; it was nature's way of adapting to the basic conditions of the plains, the high wind and low rainfall.

For all the horror, the land was not without its magic... After a rain- or hailstorm had rumbled through, the sky was open and embracing, the breeze only a soft whisper against the songs of meadowlarks and cooing of doves... Robin's egg blue was the color of mornings without fear. At night, you could see the stars behind the stars. Infinity was never an abstraction on the High Plains.

The fairy-tale journey may look like an outward trek across plains and mountains, through castles and forests, but the actual movement is inward, into the lands of the soul.7

Feeling indisposed towards the evening, I drove up the ancient plains. The setting sun is unspeakably beautiful, Only it is approaching nightfall.

In Iowa the land is flat and the people are fat. Like petrol-driven bowling balls they roll across the plains, occasionaly slotting into the groove of a roadway, then rattling to a halt at fast-food joints where they are served with paper cups of 7 Up or Coke the size of oil drums, haystack hamburgers and stooks of fries.

In valley drift we meet commonly with the bones of quadrupeds which graze on plains bordering rivers.

Riding in advance, we passed over one of these great plains; we looked back and saw the line of scattered horsemen stretching for a mile or more; and far in the rear against the horizon, the white wagons creeping slowly along.

Within a week of the girl's sacrifice, the clouds above Ólympus had broken up and spread south. Soon, a steady rain fell upon the plains and mountainsides, producing just enough downfall to fill the wells and cisterns but not ruin the crops. The natives, who had been appalled at the sacrifice, were overjoyed. Embers of hatred and fear still smoldered in their eyes, but there was also, now, a flicker of respect.

Hey. Please. This is not the Midwest. All right? Michigan is the Midwest, God knows why. This is the Plains: a state of mind, right, some spiritual affliction, like the Blues.

BILL: Anyway, if you want me to explain the creepy character of the Midwest, you're asking the wrong— BARBARA: Hey. Please. This is not the Midwest. All right? Michigan is the Midwest, God knows why. This is the Plains: a state of mind, right, some spiritual affliction, like the Blues.

by the mid-nineteenth century, Plains Indian men were taller than any documented population in the entire world, standing about a half inch above European Americans and towering a full two to five inches over their sickly European counterparts. The Cheyennes, who were the tallest of all, were the same height as well-nourished American men in the late twentieth century.