Reseeding A Lawn Quotes

If someone were to have pressed a sheet of glass down over the top of Alliance, Nebraska, in winter, it would have resembled an ant farm. Everything was a tunnel eaten neatly, carefully into the snow. The tunnel of the streets branching into the narrower tunnels of driveways and carved-out sidewalks. The snow banked over cars, lawn furniture, porches, like frozen animal carcasses stored for future need. ~ Ann Patchett

Some people feel alone and lonely
To think this world's perhaps the only
Possible place where mankind clings--
They yearn for more unworldly things,
But if in all the universe
We're quite alone, we could do worse
Than claim our own miraculous birth
On this elysian planet, Earth,
Where woods are green and warm and wet
With trumpet vine and violet:
The dew shines on the grass at dawn,
A rabbit bounds across the lawn,
And we can thank that lucky star
That makes this heaven where we are. ~ Walker Gibson

The terrace and the whole place, the lawn and the garden beyond it, all I could see of the park, were empty with a great emptiness. ~ Henry James

i g l o o


his name was Eddie and he had a
big white dog
with a curly tail
a huskie
like one of those that pulled sleighs
up near the north pole
Igloo he called him
and Eddie had a bow and arrow
and every week or two
he'd send an arrow
into the dog's side
then run into his mother's house
through the yelping
saying that Igloo had fallen on
the arrow.
that dog took quite a few arrows and
managed to
survive
but I saw what really happened and didn't
like Eddie very much.
so when I broke Eddie's leg
in a sandlot football game
that was my way of getting even
for Igloo.

his parents threatened to sue my
parents
claiming I did it on purpose because
that's what Eddie
told them.

well, nobody had any money anyhow
and when Eddie's father got a job
in San Diego
they moved away and left the
dog.
we took him in.

Igloo turned out to be rather dumb
did not respond to very much
had no life or joy in him
just stuck out his tongue
panted
slept most of the time
when he wasn't eating
and although he wiped his ass
up and down the lawn after
defecating
he usually had a large fragrant smear of
brown
under his tail

when he was run over by an
icecream truck
3 or 4 months later
and died in a stream of scarlet
Charles Bukowski

Meridian


First daylight on the bittersweet-hung
sleeping porch at high summer; dew
all over the lawn, sowing diamond-
point-highlighted shadows;
the hired man's shadow revolving
along the walk, a flash of milkpails
passing; no threat in sight, no hint
anywhere in the universe, of that

apathy at the meridian, the noon
of absolute boredom; flies
crooning black lullabies in the kitchen,
milk-soured crocks, cream separator
still unwashed; what is there to life
but chores and more chores, dishwater,
fatigue, unwanted children; nothing
to stir the longueur of afternoon

except possibly thunderheads;
climbing, livid, turreted alabaster
lit up from within by splendor and terror
-- forded lightening's
split-second disaster. ~ Amy Clampitt

You really can't be a control freak and garden happily. After many years, I have finally allowed my garden to rescue me from rigidity. No longer do I feel compelled to create utter neatness and order in my garden - or in my life. "Organized chaos" is more like it, and I like it more that way. Nor do I have to be constantly moving and doing in my garden - or in my life. Today, I actually can (and do) stay put, seated quietly on a tree stump near the brook or on the front lawn under our now majestic oak. I'm perfectly content to allow my mind to drift and my body to rest. ~ Barbara Pearlman

He put an arm around me and helped me across the lawn into the passenger's seat. The inside was red and white as a strawberry sundae, with black analog gauges. It was inefficient and sprawling; it screamed of hubris and excess and obsolescence; it was America on wheels. ~ Mishell Baker

He wore his happiness like a mask and the girl had run off across the lawn with the mask and there was no way of going to knock on her door and ask for it back. ~ Ray Bradbury

I'd never been in love, never felt that surge of feeling or that fall from its graces. I'd only watched as others weathered it: my mother in her garden, Sumner on the front lawn all those years ago, Ashley sobbing from the other side of a wall. I sat kerbside with my best friend and held her, trying to shoulder some of the hurt. There's only so much you can do, in these situations. ~ Sarah Dessen

There, standing before the mausoleum, Michael's anxiety skyrocketed. His heart raced. His head spun. His stomach turned. For a few moments, he really thought he was going to have to run to the bushes and puke. He'd never heard of a ghost being able to actually curse someone, but he didn't want to risk it by vomiting on Bluidy Mackenzie's front lawn. ~ Jacqueline E. Smith

And then he was a shrieking blaze, a jumping, sprawling gibbering manikin, no longer human or known, all writhing flame on the lawn as Montag shot one continuous pulse of liquid fire on him. ~ Ray Bradbury

It's been years since I tried to count the stars. I spent a lot of long teenage nights staring up there trying to count them. I needed to know their number. I remember waiting until the whole house was quiet, until my parents' soft voices in the room next to mine had stopped. I remember sneaking out the window in my nightie, no slippers on my feel, and lying down in the middle of the lawn. It was cold but I didn't care. I would stare at the sky, but the fucking things move. I tried to imagine the sky as a grid, drawing lines from objects on the ground. I tried scanning it with an aluminum-foil tube. I tried everything. Nothing works. ~ Toni Jordan

Ugh," Turner groans from the kitchen. "That skinny tramp can go fuck herself. She doesn't stand a chance. Even if I wasn't fucking committed to marrying your ass making tiny Turner babies, she's a little below my usual standards." Naomi's eyes narrow, and I can't hold back my smile. God, I love the shit out of these stupid assholes. I hope they buy a house down the street from me, so I can watch Naomi throwing Turner's stuff out on the lawn every other Christmas. I don't admit to myself that in that fantasy, Lola Saints is in the kitchen with nothing but an apron on. ~ C.M. Stunich

Don't worry that you're being pathetic when you try not to get caught stealing a kiss from your spouse, or when you pray for a time when the kids are out of the house so you can make out on the couch, or when you consider a trip with your husband to the lawn-care section of Home Depot a hot date.

No. You're not pathetic. You're in a blended family.... ~ Kathi Lipp

She looked away from him, her expression suddenly contemplative, the edges of her teeth catching at the plush curve of her lower lip. Just as Gideon thought she was going to refuse him, she reached out impulsively, her warm fingers catching at his. He held her hand as if he cradled a fragile bird in his palm, and drew her close enough that he could smell the hint of rose water in her hair. Her body was slim, sweetly curved, her uncorseted waist soft beneath his fingers. Despite the undeniable romance of the moment, Gideon felt a most unromantic stirring of lust as his body reacted with typical mare awareness to the nearness of a desirable female. He eased his partner into a slow waltz, guiding her expertly across the uneven flagstones.
"I've seen fairies dancing on the lawn before," he said, "when I get deep enough in a bottle of brandy. But I've never actually danced with one before. ~ Lisa Kleypas

When the president of the United States flicks the switch to light up the Christmas tree on the White House lawn, that house ceases to be an American symbol; it becomes a Christian symbol. ~ Letty Cottin Pogrebin

Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know," Harry told Ron as they crossed the lawn.
"Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush, "like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods ... ~ J.K. Rowling

They held the funeral on the second day, with the town coming to look at Miss Emily beneath a mass of bought flowers with the crayon face of her father musing profoundly above the bier and the ladies sibilant and macabre; and the very old men - some in their brushed Confederate uniforms - on the porch and the lawn, talking of Miss Emily as if she had been a contemporary of theirs, believing that they had danced with her and courted her perhaps, confusing time with its mathematical progression, as the old do, to whom all the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided from them now by the narrow bottle-neck of the most recent decade of years. ~ William Faulkner

I stepped out to the lawn. I remember the air that night, and how it was so brisk that it could revive the dead. The fragrance of eucalyptus stoking a home fire, the smell of wet grass, of dung fuel, of tobacco, of swamp air, and the perfume of hundreds of roses
this was the scent of Missing. No, it was the scent of a continent. ~ Abraham Verghese

Any do-gooder can save one life or a dozen by spending x dollars, but that doesn't demonstrate anything unless you've got x dollars multiplied by the total number of lives that need saving. Stopping poverty one victim at a time is like mowing a lawn one blade at a time. The problem grows faster than the cure can be applied, the only people who profit are the agencies who claim to be cutting grass while they're actually applying fertilizer. ~ Sheri S. Tepper

Her house looked cold from the foggy lea,
And the square of each window a dull black blur
Where showed no stir:
Yes, her gloom within at the lack of me
Seemed matching mine at the lack of her.
The black squares grew to be squares of light
As the eyeshade swathed the house and lawn,
And viols gave tone;
There was glee within. And I found that night
The gloom of severance mine alone ~ Thomas Hardy

To ferment your own food is to lodge a small but eloquent protest - on behalf of the senses and the microbes - against the homogenization of flavors and food experiences now rolling like a great, undifferentiated lawn across the globe. It is also a declaration of independence from an economy that would much prefer we remain passive consumers of its standardized commodities, rather than creators of idiosyncratic products expressive of ourselves and of the places where we live, because your pale ale or sourdough bread or kimchi is going to taste nothing like mine or anyone else's. ~ Michael Pollan

He wordlessly crossed the floor and sat beside Adam on the mattress. When he held out his hand, Adam put the model into it.
"This old thing," Ronan said. He turned the front tyre, and again the music played out of it. They sat like that for a few minutes, as Ronan examined the car and turned each wheel to play a different tune. Adam watched how intently Ronan studied the seams, his eyelashes low over his light eyes. Ronan let out a breath, put the model down on the bed beside him, and kissed Adam.
Once, when Adam had still lived in the trailer park, he had been pushing the lawn mower around the scraggly side yard when he realized that it was raining a mile away. He could smell it, the earthy scent of rain on dirt, but also the electric, restless smell of ozone. And he could see it: a hazy gray sheet of water blocking his view of the mountains. He could track the line of rain travelling across the vast dry field towards him. It was heavy and dark, and he knew he would get drenched if he stayed outside. It was coming from so far away that he had plenty of time to put the mower away and get under cover. Instead, though, he just stood there and watched it approach. Even at the last minute, as he heard the rain pounding the grass flat, he just stood there. He closed his eyes and let the storm soak him.
That was this kiss.
They kissed again. Adam felt it in more than his lips.
Ronan sat back, his eyes closed, swallowing. Adam watched his chest rise and fall ~ Maggie Stiefvater

on the back. 'Excellent.' Mr Mudge crossed his arms. 'So, at recess, you can polish the lawn bowls. At lunch, report to Mrs Trundle. There are quite a few things that need doing around her office. I'm sure she'll find a use for you.' 'No problem, Mr Mudge.' Mr Mudge waved them past. 'Now, straight to class.' They set off again, moving quickly this time, with Mudge bringing up the rear. 'Good one, Warner,' Sunil whispered in Davey's ear as they approached the classroom. 'What a crazy idea! Who'd have thought you'd pull it off?' Davey rolled his eyes. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence, Deep.' 'Now, we've just got to get McNab out of his dancing thing,' Sunil muttered. 'Wonder what Pepi's other idea was? ~ David Warner

Down at the old house, I've made a serious effort to rejuvenate what was once my garden and lawn. And I've been rewarded with all sorts of forgotten and neglected plants making surprise appearances. Random daffodils and narcissus. A fairy rose that I thought was gone forever. And, despite some very enthusiastic pruning by the local deer population, the little plum trees look as if they will survive. There is one that is very battered as the deer used it to rub the velvet off their antlers, but it is sending up some shoots and it may yet live for another year.

So. Spring. The most forgiving season of the year. ~ Megan Lindholm

What are you doing?" I squeak. Big, warm hands slide under the hem of my dress, slowly dragging the satin material upward. "What do you mean?" he asks innocently. Surprise makes my pulse race. "Where's my kiss?" Ignoring me, he pushes my dress all the way up to my waist, then groans so loudly that I shoot a wary glance behind me. But everyone on the lawn is completely out of sight, which means Blake and I are out of sight to them. Which means nobody but Blake can see that I'm not wearing anything under my dress. "No panties?" he croaks. "Seriously? We were walking down that aisle together and you weren't wearing panties? Are you trying to kill me? ~ Sarina Bowen

Thought moves like a dissociation of leaves across a lawn in a breeze. ~ Greg Bear

Where the bloody hell is my wife?" Godric yelled into the aether.
As if in response, a footman came up the stairs and handed Cedric a slip of paper. Dumbfounded, Cedric opened it and read it aloud.

My Dear Gentlemen,
We await you in the dining room. Please do not join us until you have decided upon a course of action regarding the threat to Lord Sheridan. We will be more than delighted to offer our opinions on the matter, but in truth, we suspect you do not wish to hear our thoughts. It is a failing of the male species, and we shan't hold it against you. In the future, however, it would be advisable not to lock us in a room. We simply cannot resist a challenge, something you should have learned by now. Intelligent women are not to be trifled with.
Fondest Regards,
~ The Society of Rebellious Ladies ~

"Fondest regards?" Lucien scoffed.
A puzzled Jonathan added, "Society of Rebellious Ladies?"
"Lord help us!" Ashton groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. "They've named themselves."
"I'll wager a hundred pounds that Emily's behind this. Having a laugh at our expense," Charles said in all seriousness.
"Let's go and see how rebellious they are when we're done with them." Cedric rolled up the sleeves of his white lawn shirt as he and the others stalked down the stairs to the dining room. They found it empty. The footman reappeared and Cedric wondered if perhaps the man had never left. At the servant's polit ~ Lauren Smith

The Snow Cricket

Just beyond the leaves and the white faces
Of the lilies,
I saw the wings
Of the green snow cricket
As it went flying
From vine to vine,
Searching, then finding a shadowed place in which
To sing and sing…
One repeated
Rippling phrase
Built of loneliness
And its consequences: longing
And hope…
It was trembling
With the force of its crying out,
And in truth I couldn't wait to see if another would come to it
For fear that it wouldn't,
And I wouldn't be able to bear it
I wished it good luck, with all my heart,
And went back over the lawn, to where the lilies were standing
On their calm, cob feet,
Each in the ease
Of a single, waxy body
Breathing contentedly in the chill night air;
And I swear I pitied them, as I looked down
into the theater of their perfect faces-
That frozen, bottomless glare. ~ Mary Oliver

My father continued to tinker on the lawnmower, repairing or destroying it, it was hard to tell. If curses were magic words, the machine would've run like a charm in no time. It probably could've mowed the lawn by itself. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich