Pastures Quotes (page 2)
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To give the devil its due, ours is the best Age men ever lived in; we are all more comfortable and virtuous than we ever were; we have many new accomplishments, advertisements in green pastures, telephones in bedrooms, more newspapers than we want to read, and extremely punctilious diagnosis of maladies. A doctor examined a young lady the other day, and among his notes were there: ‘Not afraid of small rooms, ghosts, or thunderstorms – not made drunk by hearing Wagner; brown hair, artistic...
John Galsworthy
He was born in fury and he lived in lightning. Tom came headlong into life. He was a giant in joy and enthusiasms. He didn't discover the world and its people, he created them. When he read his father's books, he was the first. He lived in a world shining and fresh and as uninspected as Eden on the sixth day. His mind plunged like a colt in a happy pasture, and when later the world put up fences, he plunged against the wire, and when the final stockade surrounded him, he plunged right through...
John Steinbeck
Francesca said nothing, wondering about a man to whom the difference between a pasture and a meadow seemed important, who got excited about sky color, who wrote a little poetry but not much fiction. Who played the guitar, who earned his living by images and carried his tools in knapsacks. Who seemed like the wind. And moved like it. Came from it, perhaps.
Robert James Waller
Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice?
Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming.
Carl Sandburg
I am no more lonely than a single mullein or dandelion in a pasture, or abean leaf, or sorrel, or a horse-fly, or a bumblebee. I am no more lonelythan the Mill Brook, or a weathercock, or the north star, or the southwind, or an April shower, or a January thaw, or the first spider in a newhouse.
Henry David Thoreau
High Pasture. Come up--come up: in the dim vale below. The autumn mist muffles the fading trees, But on this keen hill-pasture, though the breeze. Has stretched the thwart boughs bare to meet the snow, Night is not, autumn is not--but the flow. Of vast, ethereal and irradiate seas, Poured from the far world's flaming boundaries. In waxing tides of unimagined glow. And to that height illumined of the mindhe calls us still by the familiar way, Leaving the sodden tracks of life behind, Befogged...
Edith Wharton
However, I have never clogged myself with the praises of pastoral life, nor with nostalgia for an innocent past of perverted acts in pastures. No. One need never leave the confines of New York to get all the greenery one wishes—I can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It is more important to affirm the least sincere; the clouds get enough attention as it is and even they continue to...
Frank O'Hara
... Up telephone poles, Which rear, half out of leavage. As though they would shriek. Like things smothered by their own. Green, mindless, unkillable ghosts. In Georgia, the legend says. That you must close your windows. At night to keep it out of the house. The glass is tinged with green, even so, As the tendrils crawl over the fields. The night the Kudzu has. Your pasture, you sleep like the dead. Silence has grown oriental. And you cannot step upon the ground... ALL: Kudzu by James Dickey
James Dickey
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