Long Grass Quotes

On this page you will find all the quotes on the topic "Long Grass". There are currently 12 quotes in our collection about Long Grass. Discover the TOP 10 sayings about Long Grass!
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  • Katsa watched the long grass moving around them. The wind pushed it, attacked it, struck it in one place and then another. It rose and fell and rose again. It flowed, like water.

    Kristin Cashore (2009). “Graceling”, p.128, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
  • 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 (2007). “Neil Gaiman and Charles Vess's Stardust: Being a Romance Within the Realms of Faerie”, Vertigo
  • I must stay under the old tree in the midst of the long grass, the luxury of the leaves, and the song in the very air. It seems as if I could feel all the glowing life the sunshine gives and the south winds calls into being.

    Song   Healing   Sunshine  
    Richard Jefferies (1884). “The Life of the Fields”
  • I sat on the hill, the wind whispering through the long grass that surrounded me. I stared at the stars and wanted more than what I was and more than what the world was and just - wanted.

    Stars   Long Grass   Wind  
  • I love the long grass coming up to meet the willows.

    Long Grass   Long   Grass  
  • The moment the average golfer attempts to play from long grass or a bunker or from a difficult lie of any kind, he becomes a digger instead of a swinger.

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

    Eye   Blow   Long Grass  
    Edna St Vincent, Edna St. Vincent Millay (2013). “The Edna St. Vincent Millay Collection”, p.155, eBookIt.com
  • The air was cold to the lungs, the long grass dripping wet, and the herbs on it gave out their spiced astringent scent. In a little while on all sides the Cicada would begin to sing. The grass was me , and the air, the distant invisible mountains were me, the tired oxen were me. I breathed with the slight night-wind in the thorn trees.

    Isak Dinesen (1938). “Out of Africa”
  • The Cicada sing an endless song in the long grass, smells run along the earth and falling stars run over the sky, like tears over a cheek. You are the privileged person to whom everything is taken. The Kings of Tarshish shall bring gifts.

    Running   Song   Kings  
    Isak Dinesen (1987). “Out of Africa”, Crown Pub
  • Once upon a time there was a bear and a bee who lived in a wood and were the best of friends. All summer long the bee collected nectar from morning to night while the bear lay on his back basking in the long grass. When winter came the bear realised he had nothing to eat and thought to himself 'I hope that busy little bee will share some of his honey with me.' But the bee was nowhere to be found - he had died of a stress induced coronary disease.

    Summer   Morning   Stress  
  • The trees bathed their great heads in the waves of the morning, while their roots were planted deep in gloom; save where on the borders of the sunshine broke against their stems, or swept in long streams through their avenues, washing with brighter hue all the leaves over which it flowed; revealing the rich brown of the dacayed leaves and fallen pine-cones, and the delicate greens of the long grasses and tiny forests of moss that covered the channel over which it passed in the motionless rivers of light.

    George Macdonald (2013). “The Princess Treasury”, p.341, Simon and Schuster
  • What happens when all the parts of childhood are soldered down, when the young no longer have the time or space to play in their family's garden, cycle home in the dark with the stars and moon illuminating their route, walk down through the woods to the river, lie on their backs on hot July days in the long grass, or watch cockleburs, lit by morning sun, like bumblees quivering on harp wires? What then?

    Nature   Morning   Stars  
    Richard Louv (2013). “Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder”, p.81, Atlantic Books Ltd
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