Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
One of my favorite passages in 'Leaves of Grass,' that breathless, exuberant poem so rich and full of innocence and joy and generosity and compassion, is 'Mannahatta.'
To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug.
I've also gotten to play in front of a million people in Central Park when there was a grass roots movement calling for nuclear disarmament - it was about 1982 - they called it Peace Sunday.
The cows shorten the grass, and the chickens eat the fly larvae and sanitize the pastures. This is a symbiotic relation.
I cut grass, I did yard work, I did roofing, I cleaned basements to take care of my family.
A cow out on grass is just an incredible thing to behold... Cows and other ruminants can do things we just can't do. They have the most highly evolved digestive organ on the planet, called the rumen. And the rumen can digest grass. It takes grass, cellulose in grass, and turns it into protein, very nutritious protein. We can't do that.
Big sisters are the crab grass in the lawn of life.
We are bombarded with reasons to stay inside: we're afraid of mosquitoes because of West Nile and grass because of pesticides and sun because of cancer and sunscreen because of vitamin-D deficiency.
I'm into a lot of different types of music - pretty much everything from blue grass to jazz to dub step to metal to indie experimental and progressive.
In the long winter evenings he talked to Ma about the Western country. In the West the land was level, and there were no trees. The grass grew thick and high.
What does it take to win in New Hampshire? Grass roots and financial resources.
We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.
The grass, the sound of the ball, the jokes with my teammates - that's what I will miss most. That is what fulfills you most on a daily basis.
The fulness of the godhead dwelt in every blade of grass.
Some golfers, we are told, enjoy the landscape; but properly, the landscape shrivels and compresses into the grim, surrealistically vivid patch of grass directly under the golfer's eyes as he morosely walks toward where he thinks his ball might be.
Personal columnists are jackals and no jackal has been known to live on grass once he had learned about meat - no matter who killed the meat for him.
Zeal is a volcano, the peak of which the grass of indecisiveness does not grow.
There is not a sprig of grass that shoots uninteresting to me.
There's a snake lurking in the grass.
