Top Grass Growing Quotes

Browse top 21 famous quotes and sayings about Grass Growing by most favorite authors.

Favorite Grass Growing Quotes

1. "Lleu is a hard lord," said Huw, "He is killing Gronw without anger, without love, without mercy. He is hurt too much by the woman and the spear. Yet what is there when it is done? His pride. No spear. No friend."Roger started at Huw. "You're not so green as you're grass-looking, are you?" he said. "Now you mention it, I have been thinking— That bloke Gronw was the only one with any real guts at the end.""But none of them is all to blame," said Huw. "It is only together they are destroying each other.""That Blod-woman was pretty poor," said Roger, "however you look at it.""No," said Huw. "She was made for her lord. Nobody is asking her if she wants him. It is bitter twisting to be shut up with a person you are not liking very much. I think she was longing for the time when she was flowers on the mountain, and it is making her cruel, as the rose is growing thorns."
Author: Alan Garner
2. "No single man makes history. History cannot be seen, just as one cannot see grass growing. Wars and revolutions, kings and Robespierres, are history's organic agents, its yeast. But revolutions are made by fanatical men of action with one-track mind, geniuses in their ability to confine themselves to a limited field. They overturn the old order in a few hours or days, the whole upheaval takes a few weeks or at most years, but the fanatical spirit that inspired the upheavals is worshiped for decades thereafter, for centuries."
Author: Boris Pasternak
3. "I'm not irreplaceable ... I'm nothing but grass growing on the ground; when the grass dies, another one replaces it ..."
Author: Chico Xavier
4. "The time of dangling insects arrived. White houses with caterpillars dangling from the eaves. White stones in driveways. You can walk at night down the middle of the street and hear women talking on the telephone. Warmer weather produces voices in the dark. They are talking about their adolescent sons. How big, how fast. The sons are almost frightening. The quantities they eat. The way they loom in doorways. These are the days that are full of wormy bugs. They are in the grass, stuck to the siding, hanging in the hair, hanging from the trees and eaves, stuck to the window screens. The women talk long-distance to grandparents of growing boys. They share the Trimline phone, beamish old folks in hand-knit sweaters on fixed incomes. What happens to them when the commercial ends?"
Author: Don DeLillo
5. "Think they work you too hard? Think of poor Ali Sard. He has to mow grass in his uncle's backyard and its quick growing grass and it grows as he mows it the faster he mows it the faster he grows it. And all that his stingy old uncle will pay for his shoving mower around the hay is piffulous pay of two dooklas a day. And Ali can't live on such piffulous pay!"
Author: Dr. Seuss
6. "May you live to see the green grass growing over your grave."
Author: Frank Richard Stockton
7. "God, what did any of it matter, in the end? You lived; you died. You were as indistinguishable from a distance as one of these blades of grass, and who was to say more important? Growing, surrounded by your kin, you out-living some, some out-living you. You didn't have to adjust the scale much, either, to reduce us to the sort of distant irrelevance of this bedraggled field. The grass was lucky if it grew, was shone upon and rained upon, and was not burned, and was not pulled up by the roots, or poisoned, or buried when the ground was turned over, and some bits just happened to be on a line that humans wanted to walk on, and so got trampled, broken, pressed flat, with no malice; just effect."
Author: Iain Banks
8. "The dragon is witheredHis bones are now crumbled;His armour is shivered,His splendour is humbled!Though sword shall be rustedAnd throne and crown perishWith strength that men trustedAnd wealth that they cherish,Here grass is still growing,And leaves are yet swinging,The white water flowing,And elves are yet singingCome! Tra-la-la-lally!Come back to the Valley!The stars are far brighterThan gems without measure,The moon is far whiterThan silver in treasure:The fire is more shiningOn hearth in the gloamingThan gold won by mining,So why go a-roaming?O! Tra-la-la-lallyCome back to the Valley!O! Where are you going,So late in returning?The river is flowing,The stars are all burning!O! Wither so laden,So sad and so dreary?Here elf and elf-maidenNow welcome the wearyWith Tra-la-la-lallyCome back to the Valley,Tra-la-la-lallyFa-la-la-lallyFa-la!"
Author: J.R.R. Tolkien
9. "The trees and the grasses and all things growing or living in the land belong each ro themselves."
Author: J.R.R. Tolkien
10. "In May, when the grass was so green it hurt to look at it, the air so overpoweringly sweet you had to go in and turn on the television just to dull your senses- that's when Claire knew it was time to look for the asparagus in the pastures. If it rained she wondered if she should check our secret places for morels. In June, when the strawberries ripened, we made hay and the girls rode on top of the wagon. I was ever mindful of the boy who had fallen off and broken his neck. In July, the pink raspberries, all in brambles in the woods and growing up our front porch, turned black and tart. In August, the sour apples were the coming thing. In September there were the crippled-up pears in the old orchard. In October, we picked the pumpkin and popcorn. And all winter, when there was snow, we lived for the wild trip down the slopes on the toboggan."
Author: Jane Hamilton
11. "Ben and I walked by the Forum, which, with the green grass still growing among the stones, seems to be a double ruin: a ruin of antiquity and a monument to the tender sentiments of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century travelers, for we see not only the ghosts of Romans here but the shades of ladies with parasols and men with beards and little children rolling hoops."
Author: John Cheever
12. "A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me will full hands; How could I answer the child?......I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. There was the hope Dr. Holden had talked about-the grass was a metaphor for his hope. But that"s not all. He continues, Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped, Like grass is a metaphor for God's greatness or something.... And then soon after is itself a child.... And then soon after that, Or, I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broadzones and narrow zones. Growing among black folk as among white."
Author: John Green
13. "You have a life and there are these volumes on either side that go unvisited; some day soon as the world winds he will lie beneath what he now stands on, dead as those insects whose sound he no longer hears, and the grass will go on growing, wild and blind."
Author: John Updike
14. "We have trains to hop, voyages to embark on, and rides to hitch. And then there's the great American wild—vanishing but still there—ready to impart its wisdom from an Alaskan peak or a patch of grass growing in a crack of a city sidewalk. And no matter how much sprawl and civilization overtake our wilds, we'll always have the boundless wildlands in ourselves to explore."
Author: Ken Ilgunas
15. "But, look, it is good to have a dream so long as you do not let it gnaw at the substance of your present. I have seen men consumed by their dreams, and it is a sour business. If you cling too tightly to a dream—a poodle bitch or a personal sausage chef or whatever—then you miss the felicity of your heart beating and the smell of the grass growing and the sounds lizards make when you run through the neighborhood with our friend. Your dream should be like a favorite old bone that you savor and cherish and chew upon gently. Then, rather than stealing from you a wasted sigh or the life of an idle hour, it nourishes you, and you become strangely contented by nostalgia for a possible future, so juicy with possibility and redolent of sautéed garlic and decadent slabs of bacon that you feel full when you've eaten nothing. And then, one fine day when the sun smiles upon your snout, then the time is right, you bite down hard. The dream is yours. And then youchew on the next one."
Author: Kevin Hearne
16. "Perhaps his gloom was due to his profession, that he lived among fallen empires, and in reading these languages that had not been spoken by the common man in centuries, he had all about him the ruin of language, evidence of toppled suburbs, grass growing among the mosaics, and voices that had been choked with poison, iron, age, or ash."
Author: M.T. Anderson
17. "Against barbarity, poetry can resist only by confirming its attachment to human fragility like a blade of grass growing on a wall while armies march by."
Author: Mahmoud Darwish
18. "She's gone. Been gone for ages. They split up right after you left. That's why the grass out front started growing again.""He's got a new girlfriend?" she said quietly. "Thank god. You must be happy.""Yeah. He does. It's a relief. She's a lot nicer. But then, your average angry snake is nicer than Fiona. I'm sure she's happier wherever she is now, burning orphans or whatever she does with her time."
Author: Maureen Johnson
19. "Maybe we can just park and check out the fields," said Ethan. "It doesn't look like anyone's around."I was sad to leave the playlist behind--I was worried the car was my snow globe and it would shatter without us being in this small space filled with music and sunlight.It turned out, though, that the snow globe was bigger than I'd imagined. We high-stepped through grass that hadn't been mowed all spring, where blue and yellow wildflowers were growing. When we found a shady spot near a lone tree in the middle of the field, Ethan smoothed out some grass and said, "Let's sit."
Author: Melissa C. Walker
20. "Whereverwe walkwe will makeWhereverwe protestwe will go plantingMake poemsseed grassfeed a child growingbuild a houseWhatever we stand againstWe will stand feeding and seedingWherever I walkI will make"
Author: Muriel Rukeyser
21. "Look at the four-spaced yearThat imitates four seasons of our lives;First Spring, that delicate season, bright with flowers,Quickening, yet shy, and like a milk-fed child,Its way unsteady while the countrymanDelights in promise of another year.Green meadows wake to bloom, frail shoots and grasses,And then Spring turns to Summer's hardiness,The boy to manhood. There's no time of yearOf greater richness, warmth, and love of living,New strength untried. And after Summer, Autumn,First flushes gone, the temperate season hereMidway between quick youth and growing age,And grey hair glinting when the head turns toward us, Then senile Winter, bald or with white hair,Terror in palsy as he walks alone."
Author: Ovid

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A labyrinth, when it is big enough, is just the world."
Author: Catherynne M. Valente

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