On the screen I saw tanks rolling through dusty streets, and fallen buildings, and forests of unfamiliar trees into which East Pakistani refugees had fled, seeking safety over the Indian border.
I have a pet lizard named Puff, five goldfish - named Pinky, Brain, Jowels, Pearl and Sandy, an oscar fish named Chef, two pacus, an albino African frog named Whitey, a bonsai tree, four Venus flytraps, a fruit fly farm and sea monkeys.
Once in a while, you'll get somebody who watched 'One Tree Hill' and 'Supernatural,' but by and large, whoever watches one show is very distinct. There's not a lot of crossover. It's like, 'This is my show, and I love this show. I know everything abo...
I've come to realize how much it really was a part of my upbringing, the Georgia part. We were away from town. It was just dirt and trees and spouses. And a lot of kids - my cousins, who were all like brothers and sisters to me - just a lot of kids a...
We're dabbling in eugenics all the time, breeding ideal crops to replace less aesthetic or nutritious or hardy varieties; leveling forests to graze cattle or erect shopping malls and condos; planting groves of a few familiar trees that homeowners and...
Originally I wanted somewhere to set my short stories about the sort of people I recognise having grown up with. Carnbeg was staring me in the face all the time, only I had somehow failed to see that. Not seeing the wood for the trees, I suppose.
Alex: The Durango '95 purred away a real horrowshow - a nice, warm vibraty feeling all through your guttiwuts. And soon it was trees and dark, my brothers, with real country dark.
Colin Sullivan: Fuck you, fuckin' queers. Firemen gettin' pussy for the first time in the history of fire or pussy. Hey go save a kitten in a tree, you fucking homos.
[Weiss is hardwiring the bomb in Chester A. Arthur Elementary School] Charles Weiss: Six booby traps, four dead ends, "and a Partridge in a pear tree." Okay, honey. Let's dance.
Isabelle: I enjoy the poetry of Christina Georgina Rossetti. She wrote, "My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a watered shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit."
Eddie Scrap-Iron Dupris: She came from southwest Missoura, the hills outside the scratchy-ass Ozark town of Theodosia, set in the cedars and oak trees, somewhere between nowhere and goodbye.
[first lines] The Salesman: [voiceover] She shivers in the wind like the last leaf on a dying tree. I let her hear my footsteps. She only goes stiff for a moment.
Mattie Ross: [cutting the rope on the tree] Why did they hang him so high? Rooster Cogburn: I do not know. Possibly in the belief it'd make him more dead.
Nature is impersonal, awe-inspiring, elegant, eternal. It's geometrically perfect. It's tiny and gigantic. You can travel far to be in a beautiful natural setting, or you can observe it in your backyard - or, in my case, in the trees lining New York ...
When one's dead, one's dead... This squirrel will become earth all in his time. And still later on, there'll grow new trees from him, with new squirrels skipping about in them. Do you think that's so very sad?
I wonder if anyone else has an ear so tuned and sharpened as I have, to detect the music, not of the spheres, but of earth, subtleties of major and minor chord that the wind strikes upon the tree branches. Have you ever heard the earth breathe?
Fruit in the morning is such a big joy for me. I like to grab fruit from the tree, et cetera. I don't feel that way with vegetables. Fruit ,you can eat it at any time, any moment, in any type of situation. I like everything about fruit; I like the co...
My vanity was flattered by having been mistaken for our revered sovereign. I ordered a banquet to be got ready for the following evening, under the trees before my house, and invited the whole town.
I am going to try to pay attention to the spring. I am going to look around at all the flowers, and look up at the hectic trees. I am going to close my eyes and listen.
Victory, is like a boxer that hangs his gloves, after the consecutive losses; sometimes walking away is what builds character, than the actual fight. As humble fruit on a tree that falls to the ground and rots, never finding appreciation in the taste...
Silence It has a sound, a fullness. It's heavy with sigh of tree, and space between breaths. It's ripe with pause between birdsong and crash of surf. It's golden they say. But no one tells us it's addictive.
