Top Mead Quotes

Browse top 234 famous quotes and sayings about Mead by most favorite authors.

Favorite Mead Quotes

1. "My depth of purse is not so greatNor yet my bibliophilic greed,That merely buying doth elate:The books I buy I like to read:Still e'en when dawdling in a mead,Beneath a cloudless summer sky,By bank of Thames, or Tyne, or Tweed,The books I read — I like to buy."
Author: A. Edward Newton
2. "No matter how intently one studies the hundred little dramas of the woods and meadows, one can never learn all the salient facts about any one of them."
Author: Aldo Leopold
3. "While it is relatively easy to recognize the perennial grasses and seed-eating sparrows as characteristic of meadows, the ecosystems exist in their fullest sense underground. What we see aboveground is only the outer margin of an ecosystem that explodes in intricacy and life below."
Author: Amy Seidl
4. "Todos los domingos la gente venía y aspiraba aquel olor a meado y nadie decía nada. Quería hablarle al cura acerca de ello, pero no podía. Quizás fueran los cirios."
Author: Charles Bukowski
5. "If there comes a little thaw, Still the air is chill and raw, Here and there a patch of snow, Dirtier than the ground below, Dribbles down a marshy flood; Ankle-deep you stick in mud In the meadows while you sing, "This is Spring."
Author: Christopher Pearse Cranch
6. "My ideal is to wake up in the morning and run around the meadow naked."
Author: Daryl Hannah
7. "Mead for my men!"
Author: Donald Barthelme
8. "For hours she had lain in a kind of gentle torpor, not unlike that sweet lassitude which masters one in the hush of a midsummer noon, when the heat seems to have silenced the very birds and insects, and, lying sunk in the tasselled meadow grasses, one looks up through a level roofing of maple-leaves at the vast, shadowless, and unsuggestive blue."
Author: Edith Wharton
9. "A power of Butterfly must be -The Aptitude to flyMeadows of Majesty concedesAnd easy Sweeps of Sky -"
Author: Emily Dickinson
10. "Robert Jordan saw them there on the slope, close to him now, and below he saw the road and the bridge and the long lines of vehicles below it. He was completely integrated now and he took a good long look at everything. Then he looked up at the sky. There were big white clouds in it. He touched the palm of his hand against the pine needles where he lay and he touched the bark of the pine trunk that he lay behind... He was waiting until the officer reached the sunlit place where the first trees of the pine forest joined the green slope of the meadow. He could feel his heart beating against the pine needle floor of the forest."
Author: Ernest Hemingway
11. "Desenrolo-me como uma meada multicolor, ou faço comigo figuras de cordel, como as que se tecem nas mãos espetadas e se passam de umas crianças para as outras. Cuido só de que o polegar não falhe o laço que lhe compete. Depois viro a mão e a imagem fica diferente. E recomeço."
Author: Fernando Pessoa
12. "Candleford Green was but a small village and there were fields and meadows and woods all around it. As soon as Laura crossed the doorstep, she could see some of these. But mere seeing from a distance did not satisfy her; she longed to go alone far into the fields and hear the birds singing, the brooks tinkling, and the wind rustling through the corn, as she had when a child. To smell things and touch things, warm earth and flowers and grasses, and to stand and gaze where no one could see her, drinking it all in."
Author: Flora Thompson
13. "It was a rich and gorgeous sunset - an American sunset; and the ruddy glow of the sky was reflected from some extensive pools of water among the shadowy copses in the meadow below."
Author: Francis Parkman
14. "I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table, and pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you into dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise."
Author: George R.R. Martin
15. "Just this once, in the very heart of the busiest of cities, everyone was perfectly content not to move and hardly to breathe. And for those few minutes, while the song lasted, Times Square was still as a meadow at evening, with the sun streaming in on the people there and the wind moving among them as if they were only tall blades of grass."
Author: George Selden
16. "We heard no other sounds. We met no other people. We saw only two bright red birds leap startled from the center of the meadow and dart into the woods."
Author: Haruki Murakami
17. "Indeed, everything that could hum, or buzz, or sing, or bloom had a part in my education--noisy-throated frogs, katydids and crickets held in my hand until, forgetting their embarrassment, they trilled their reedy note, little downy chickens and wildflowers, the dogwood blossoms, meadow-violets and budding fruit trees. I felt the bursting cotton-bolls and fingered their soft fiber and fuzzy seeds; I felt the low soughing of the wind through the cornstalks, the silky rustling of the long leaves, and the indignant snort of my pony..."
Author: Helen Keller
18. "On Ponkawtasset, since, we took our way,Down this still stream we took our meadowy way,A poet wise has settled, whose fine rayDoth faintly shine on Concord's twilight day.Like those first stars, whose silver beams on high,Shining more brightly as the day goes by,Most travellers cannot at first descry,But eyes that wont to range the evening sky,And know celestial lights, do plainly see,And gladly hail them, numbering two or three;For lore that's deep must deeply studied be,As from deep wells men read star-poetry.These stars are never pal'd, though out of sight,But like the sun they shine forever bright;Aye, they are suns, though earth must in its flightPut out its eyes that it may see their light.Who would neglect the least celestial sound,Or faintest light that falls on earthly ground,If he could know it one day would be foundThat star in Cygnus whither we are bound,And pale our sun with heavenly radiance round?"
Author: Henry David Thoreau
19. "I believe in the forest, and in the meadow, and in the night in which the corn grows."
Author: Henry David Thoreau
20. "It's more eerie to be alone in a city that's lit up and functioning than one that's a tomb. If everything were silent, one could almost pretend to be in nature. A forest. A meadow. Crickets and birdsong. But the corpse of civilization is as restless as the creatures that now roam the graveyards."
Author: Isaac Marion
21. "I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmead at weekends."
Author: J.K. Rowling
22. "That old berk," muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. "Thought the sun shone out of my brother's every orifice, he did."
Author: J.K. Rowling
23. "And strange were the tales of the pond in the meadow,And eager we listened with eyes opened wideTo Those tales often told by poor Mary the widow,Who lived in a cottage the meadow beside.Play not, my dear boys, near the pond in the meadow,The mermaid is waiting to pull you beneath;Climb not for a bird's nest, the bough it may sliver,And the mermaid will drag you to darkness and death."
Author: J.R. Withers
24. "The Meadow... Only one of them succeeded in making a life here... He weathered. Before a backdrop of natural beauty, he lived a life from which everything was taken but a place. He lived so close to the real world it almost let him in."
Author: James Galvin
25. "As I held onto Rosemary Telesco for dear life, we both knew the truth. She was going off to camp and eventually, private school. We were on different roads, she and me. Two ships that passed in Sheep Meadow."
Author: Jennifer Flackett
26. "How, if I know all this, you may ask, could I hound him – shatter him again and again, drive him deeper and deeper into woe? I have no answer, except this: why should I not? Has he made any move to deserve my kindness? If I give him a truce, will the king invite me in for a kiss on the forehead, a cup of mead? Ha!"
Author: John Gardner
27. "Let us away, my love, with happy speed;There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see,- Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead.Awake! arise! my love and fearless be,For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee."
Author: John Keats
28. "On no subject are our ideas more warped and pitiable than on death... Let children walk with nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life, and that the grave has no victory, for it never fights. All is divine harmony."
Author: John Muir
29. "Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life."
Author: John Muir
30. "But, my darling, if you love me,' thought Miss Meadows, 'I don't mind how much it is. Love me as little as you like."
Author: Katherine Mansfield
31. "Only a few more weeks till spring . . . and a few more weeks then till summer . . . and holidays . . . and Green Gables . . . and golden sunlight on Avonlea meadows . . . and a gulf that will be silver at dawn and sapphire at noon and crimson at sunset . . . and you."
Author: L.M. Montgomery
32. "I am fluent in snark.Bethany only notices snark when snark grabs her off the sidewalk, throws her in the back of a sketchy van with tinted windows, drives to the middle of the Meadow-lands in the dead of night, and uses a heavy blunt instrumentto smack her repeatedly about the head as it screams, "I'M SNARK. DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME? I'M SNARKY SNARKY SNARK!" And even then she's like, "Ohhhh? Snark? Is that you?"
Author: Megan McCafferty
33. "Who made the law that men should die in meadows?Who spake the word that blood should splash in lanes?Who gave it forth that gardens should be boneyards?Who spread the hills with flesh, and blood, and brains?Who made the law?"Leslie Coulson"
Author: Michael Tappenden
34. "Shadow walked the meadow, making his own slow circles around the trunk of the tree, gradually widening his circle. Sometimes he would stop and pick something up: a flower, or a leaf, or a pebble, or a twig, or a blade of grass. He would examine it minutely, as if concentrating entirely on the twigness of the twig, the leafness of the leaf, as if he were seeing it for the first time. Easter found herself reminded of the gaze of a baby, at the point where it learns to focus."
Author: Neil Gaiman
35. "The limeade was very interesting. It didn't taste anything like limes. It tasted bright green and vaguely chemical."
Author: Neil Gaiman
36. "Thrice damned she howls like Cerberus to the nightGuarding virtues that lie like forgotten stainsOn oaken floors that pave the willow lined paths of the pastThat lead to a meadow filled with the detritus of wasted loveRotting under a forgotten sun that no longer shinesIn a heart gone cold therein lies the haste of anger."
Author: Neil Leckman
37. "The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows."
Author: P. G. Wodehouse
38. "Bruce looked at David and David asked, "Is that Harold?"He was wearing the same Meadow Brook Basketball jacket and had only a few gray hairs left on his round head. Harold walked up to his two favorite players and exclaimed, "Give me five!" and he extended both hands and the guys lightly slapped his palms, as the other eight ex-players chuckled in the background.The cylinders started clicking in David's mind as Harold said, "On the other side."The guys lightly slapped the knuckle side of Harold's hand as David said, "Oh, shit!"
Author: Phil Wohl
39. "I travelled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market,my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream andall the ways were well known to me. One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy inthe fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earthheaved with the mirth of ripening rice. Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed tokiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out ofmist. I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from thepath, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flowerI had only known in bud. My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairylandof things. It was the best luck of my life that I lost my path thatmorning, and found my eternal childhood."
Author: Rabindranath Tagore
40. "But her mother had looked at her curiously, gravely, puzzled by this creature who seemed all contradictions - at one moment so hard, at another so gentle, gentle to tenderness, even. Anna had been stirred, as her child had been stirred, by the breath of the meadowsweet under the hedges; for in this they were one, the mother and daughter, having each in her veins the warm Celtic blood that takes note of such things - could they only have divined it, such simple things might have formed a link between them."
Author: Radclyffe Hall
41. "That's my window. This minuteSo gently did I alightFrom sleep--was still floating in it.Where has my life its limitAnd where begins the night?I could fancy all things around meWere nothing but I as yet;Like a crystal's depth, profoundlyMute, translucent, unlit.I have space to spare inside meFor the stars, too: so full of roomFeels my heart; so lightlyWould it let go of him, whomFor all I know I have startedTo love, it may be to hold.Strange, as if never charted,Stares my fortune untold.Why is it I am beddedBeneath this infinitude,Fragrant like a meadow,Hither and thither moved,Calling out, yet fearingSomeone might hear the cry,Destined to disappearingWithin another I."
Author: Rainer Maria Rilke
42. "Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it"
Author: Ralph Waldo Emerson
43. "Manners are the happy ways of doing things; each one a stroke of genius or of love, now repeated and hardened into usage, they form at last a rich varnish, with which the routine of life is washed, and its details adorned. If they are superficial, so are the dew-drops which give such a depth to the morning meadows."
Author: Ralph Waldo Emerson
44. "The South-wind bringsLife, sunshine and desire,And on every mount and meadowBreathes aromatic fire;But over the dead he has no power,The lost, the lost, he cannot restore;And, looking over the hills, I mournThe darling who shall not return."
Author: Ralph Waldo Emerson
45. "The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmuted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke."
Author: Ray Bradbury
46. "I was like a woman at a drawer, putting away her party dresses between tissue paper, and there he stood in the doorway-- not Stewart Applebaum, but this feeling-- gentlemanly, feral, breathtaking, peaceful, something very close to life itself, asking me for one more dance down in the meadow."
Author: Rebecca Lee
47. "But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the Mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim."
Author: Suzanne Collins
48. "It suddenly occurred to me that, after all that frolicking in the meadows, he hadn't kissed me. Was it because of the mold that grew in my sinuses?"
Author: The Harvard Lampoon
49. "Why, if one wants to compare life to anything, one must liken it to being blown through the Tube at fifty miles an hour--landing at the other end without a single hairpin in one's hair! Shot out at the feet of God entirely naked! Tumbling head over heels in the asphodel meadows like brown paper parcels pitched down a shoot in the post office! With one's hair flying back like the tail of a race-horse. Yes, that seems to express the rapidity of life, the perpetual waste and repair; all so casual, all so haphazard...But after life. The slow pulling down of thick green stalks so that the cup of the flower, as it turns over, deluges one with purple and red light. Why, after all, should one not be born there as one is born here, helpless, speechless, unable to focus one's eyesight, groping at the roots of the grass, at the toes of the Giants?"
Author: Virginia Woolf
50. "A painting is more than the sum of its parts,' he would tell me, and then go on to explain how the cow by itself is just a cow, and the meadow by itself is just grass and flowers, and the sun peeking through the trees is just a beam of light, but put them all together and you've got magic."
Author: Wendelin Van Draanen

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Knowledge can be a curse.The moment you gain it, you thirst for more."
Author: Ameera Al Hakawati

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