Grass Quotes - Page 6

• Schist," said an angry voice from the grass. Hazel raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" "Schist! Big pile of schist!

  Rick Riordan

  Eyebrows, Voice, Excuse

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• Sounds of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain awaken'd flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Rain, Flower, Sound

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1832). “The Beauties of Percy Bysshe Shelley ... Third Edition”, p.218

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• I think that everything should be made available to everybody, and I mean LSD, cocaine, codeine, grass, opium, the works. Nothing on earth available to any man should be confiscated and made unlawful by other men in more seemingly powerful and advantageous positions.

  Charles Bukowski

  Funny, Powerful, Mean

  Charles Bukowski (2003). “Sunlight Here I Am: Interviews and Encounters, 1963-1993”

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• Woman! Come out! I have—" She looked down at the bloodless grass, embarrassed. "I have come to rescue you," she finally said, as if admitting that she were covered in boils.

  Catherynne M. Valente

  Admitting, Rescue, Said

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• Dirt's a funny thing,' the Boss said. 'Come to think of it, there ain't a thing but dirt on this green God's globe except what's under water, and that's dirt too. It's dirt makes the grass grow. A diamond ain't a thing in the world but a piece of dirt that got awful hot. And God-a-Mighty picked up a handful of dirt and blew on it and made you and me and George Washington and mankind blessed in faculty and apprehension. It all depends on what you do with the dirt. That right?

  Robert Penn Warren

  Blessed, Thinking, Funny Things

  Robert Penn Warren (2006). “All the King's Men”, p.69, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Good Morning!” said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat. “What do you mean?” he said. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Morning, Mean, Eyebrows

  J.R.R. Tolkien (2012). “The Hobbit”, p.9, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• I would I were alive again To kiss the fingers of the rain, To drink into my eyes the shine Of every slanting silver line, To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze From drenched and dripping apple-trees. For soon the shower will be done, And then the broad face of the sun Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth Until the world with answering mirth Shakes joyously, and each round drop Rolls twinkling, from its grass-blade top.

  Edna St. Vincent Millay

  Rain, Eye, Kissing

  Edna St. Vincent Millay (2013). “Early Poems”, p.6, Courier Corporation

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• Ah, I could lay me down in this long grass And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind Blow over me

  Edna St. Vincent Millay

  Eye, Blow, Long Grass

  Edna St Vincent, Edna St. Vincent Millay (2013). “The Edna St. Vincent Millay Collection”, p.155, eBookIt.com

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• He had had a severe shock some weeks earlier, when, having narrowly failed to capture a large grey-brown hare for his dinner, it had stopped at the edge of the forest, looked at him with disdain, and said, 'Well, I hope you're proud of yourself, that's all,' and had scampered off into the long grass

  Neil Gaiman

  Long Grass, Forests, Proud

  Neil Gaiman (2007). “Neil Gaiman and Charles Vess's Stardust: Being a Romance Within the Realms of Faerie”, Vertigo

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• Peeta crouches down on the other side of her and strokes her hair. When he begins to speak in a soft voice, it seems almost nonsensical, but the words aren’t for me. “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.

  Suzanne Collins

  Baby, Spring, Home

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Catching Fire (The Second Book of the Hunger Games)”, p.312, Scholastic Inc.

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• I didn't want to see them lower him into the ground in the spot he'd picked out with his dad, and I didn't want to see his parents sink to their knees in the dew-wet grass and moan in pain.

  John Green

  Pain, Dad, Parent

  John Green (2012). “The Fault in Our Stars”, p.274, Penguin

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• Spring slattern of seasons
  you have soggy legs
  and a muddy petticoat
  drowsy
  
  is your hair your
  eyes are sticky with
  dream and you have a sloppy body from
  
  being brought to bed of crocuses
  when you sing in your whisky voice
  the grass rises on the head of the earth
  and all the trees are put on edge
  
  spring
  of the excellent jostle of
  thy hips
  and the superior

  e. e. cummings

  Dream, Spring, Eye

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• I have seen the Lady April bringing
  the daffodils,
  Bringing the springing grass and the
  soft warm April rain.

  John Masefield

  Spring, Rain, April

  John Masefield (1923). “The Collected Poems”

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• All the wild sweetness of the flower
  Tangled against the wall.
  It was that magic, silent hour....
  The branches grew so tall
  They twined themselves into a bower.
  The sun shown ... and the fall
  
  Of yellow blossom on the grass!
  You feel that golden rain?
  Both of you could not hold, alas,
  (both of you tried, in vain)
  A memory, stranger. So I pass....
  It will not come again.

  Katherine Mansfield

  Wall, Memories, Spring

  Katherine Mansfield, Margaret Scott (1997). “The Katherine Mansfield notebooks”

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• When the grass was closely mown,
  Walking on the lawn alone,
  In the turf a hole I found,
  And hid a soldier underground.
  
  Spring and daisies came apace;
  Grasses hide my hiding place;
  Grasses run like a green sea
  O'er the lawn up to my knee.

  Robert Louis Stevenson

  Running, Spring, Sea

  Robert Louis Stevenson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated)”, p.3446, Delphi Classics

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• The air and the earth interpenetrated in the warm gusts of spring; the soil was full of sunlight, and the sunlight full of red dust. The air one breathed was saturated with earthy smells, and the grass under foot had a reflection of the blue sky in it.

  Willa Cather

  Art, Spring, Reflection

  Willa Cather (2011). “Death Comes for the Archbishop”, p.200, Vintage

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• Ask of Her, the mighty Mother.
  Her reply puts this other
  Question: What is Spring?-
  Growth in every thing -
  
  Flesh and fleece, fur and feather,
  Grass and green world all together,
  Star-eyed strawberry breasted
  Throstle above Her nested
  
  Cluster of bugle blue eggs thin
  Forms and warms the life within,
  And bird and blossom swell
  In sod or sheath or shell.

  Gerard Manley Hopkins

  Mother, Stars, Spring

  Gerard Manley Hopkins (2013). “Selected Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins”, p.32, Courier Corporation

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• Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart. I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain, And I lie disheveled in the grass apart, A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain.

  Edna St. Vincent Millay

  Breakup, Sweet, Lying

  Edna St. Vincent Millay (1956). “Collected Poems”, HarperCollins Publishers

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• Today is the day when bold kites fly,
  When cumulus clouds roar across the sky.
  When robins return, when children cheer,
  When light rain beckons spring to appear.
  
  Today is the day when daffodils bloom,
  Which children pick to fill the room,
  Today is the day when grasses green,
  When leaves burst forth for spring to be seen.

  Robert McCracken

  Cheer, Children, Spring

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• We saw men haying far off in the meadow, their heads waving like the grass which they cut. In the distance the wind seemed to bend all alike.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Distance, Humility, Cutting

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• . . . every tree near our house had a name of its own and a special identity. This was the beginning of my love for natural things, for earth and sky, for roads and fields and woods, for trees and grass and flowers; a love which has been second only to my sense of enduring kinship with birds and animals, and all inarticulate creatures.

  Ellen Glasgow

  Love, Flower, Animal

  Ellen Anderson Gholson Glasgow (1963). “Collected Stories”

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• Day after day we looked for rain, and day after day we saw nothing but the sun. Lavender that we had planted in the spring died. The patch of grass in front of the house abandoned its ambitions to become a lawn and turned into the dirty yellow of poor straw. The earth shrank, revealing its knuckles and bones, rocks and roots that had been invisible before.

  Peter Mayle

  Spring, Rain, Dirty

  Peter Mayle (2001). “Toujours Provence”, p.148, Penguin UK

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• I would not a bit mind sleeping in the cool grass in summer, and when winter came on sheltering myself by the warm close-thatched rick, or under the penthouse of a great barn, provided I had love in my heart.

  Oscar Wilde

  Summer, Home, Heart

  Oscar Wilde (1961). “DE PROFUNDIS”, p.10, VICTORIA INSTITUTIONS

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• The naked earth is warm with Spring,
  And with green grass and bursting trees
  Leans to the sun's kiss glorying,
  And quivers in the sunny breeze.

  Julian Grenfell

  Spring, Kissing, Tree

  The Times 28 May 1915 "Into Battle"

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• Happy is the man who loves the woods and waters,
  Brother to the grass and well beloved of Pan;
  The earth shall be his, and all her laughing daughters.
  Happy the man.

  Richard Le Gallienne

  Love, Daughter, Gratitude

  Richard Le Gallienne (1920). “The Junk-man, and Other Poems”, Garden City, N.Y. : Doubleday, Page

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