Waynot Dirt Quotes

#1. It was Mrs. Gammage all over again, she thought. The old woman was a regular in Biers for the company and was quite gaga, and one of the symptoms of those going completely yo-yo was that they broke out in chronic cats. Usually cats who'd mastered every detail of feline existence except the whereabouts of the dirt box. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#2. I said to myself: Doreen is dissolving, Lenny Shepherd is dissolving, Frankie is dissolving, New York is dissolving, they are all dissolving away and none of them matter any more. I don't know them, I have never known them and I am very pure. All that liquor and those sticky kisses I saw and the dirt that settled on my skin on the way back is turning into something pure. #Quote by Sylvia Plath

#3. Where I craved stillness in written words or in the dirt or in church, they longed to be side by side, racing and chasing and crowding each other, only able to breathe if their lungs were burning. #Quote by Anna Bright

#4. Scents were always about what was growing and what was dying. What would last through the next season. This was just with people instead of trees or flowers or dirt. Maybe I could read them after all. The thought gave me hope. #Quote by Erica Bauermeister

#5. After all, perhaps dirt isn't really so unhealthy as one is brought up to believe. #Quote by Agatha Christie

#6. The whole drive of western culture, the part of it which is serious, is towards an extreme objectification. It's carried to the point where the human subject is treated almost as if it's dirt in the works of a watch. #Quote by Henry Flynt

#7. Ladies used to be fond of me: not all of them, but it happened, it happened. But I always liked side-paths, little dark back-alleys behind the main road- there one finds adventures and surprises, and precious metal in the dirt. I #Quote by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

#8. He is at the end of their driveway, where the dirt road meets the asphalt, and seeing Hemming, he is overcome with longing. 'Hemming!' he shouts, and then, nonsensically, 'Wait for me!' And he beings to run toward his brother, so fast that after a while, he can't even feel his feet trike the ground beneath him. #Quote by Hanya Yanagihara

#9. When my grandpa died, I had this same fear. I love Grandpa so much. He was Mom's dad, and he was my favorite person in the whole world. He lived up north, between Grayling and the Mackinaw Bridge. He had, like, twenty acres. He had horses and dirt bike and all this awesome stuff. I'd go up there for weeks at a time during the summers, and he'd let me do whatever I wanted. We'd go hunting and fishing and four-wheeling, and I'd stay up till midnight every night. Then one day, he died. All of a sudden, just like that that. I cried for days. Dad kicked the shit out of me for crying, but I didn't care. I loved Grandpa, and he was gone. Then, like a month after he'd died, I had this panic attack. I couldn't remember what he looked like. I thought it meant I didn't love him, or that I'd forgotten about him. It was the only time Dad was anything like helpful. He told me you have to forget what they look like. Otherwise, you can't learn to live without them. Forgetting is your brain's way of telling you it's time to try and move on. Not forget who they were, just...keep living. #Quote by Jasinda Wilder

#10. I love having my hands in the dirt. It is never a science and always an art. There are no rules. And if it comes down to me versus that weed I'm trying to pull out of the ground that doesn't want to come out? I know I'll win. #Quote by Matthew McConaughey

#11. Byron had drawn his pistol, and was looking closely at the leaves and dirt around him, as if he'd dropped something. "It's
do keep calm now
it's right over your head. I suppose you could look, if you can do it slowly."
Crawford felt drops of sweat run down his ribs under his shirt as he slowly forced the muscles of his neck to tilt his head up; he saw the upper slope, bristling with trees that obstructed a view of the road, and then he saw the outer branches of the tree he was braced against, and finally he gathered his tattered courage and looked straight up.
And it took all of his self-control not to recoil or scream, and he was distantly resentful that he couldn't just die in this instant. #Quote by Tim Powers

#12. We weren't dirt poor, but there was no spare money kicking around. While it was very much understood that the way to a better life was through education, books were a luxury we couldn't afford. But when I was six, we actually moved opposite the central library, and that became my home from home. #Quote by Val McDermid

#13. We have grace of strength to work, to clear our cities of any dirt. #Quote by Lailah Gifty Akita

#14. I used the excess dirt to make a few more continents. Australia is my best work, I think,
-Bunnymund #Quote by William Joyce

#15. The mammoth was basically done in by climate change. The last ones survived on Wrangel Island, north of Chukotka, until 3,700 years ago. According to Eveny mythology, mammoths scooped up dirt with their tusks to form the first dry land. #Quote by Alex Shoumatoff

#16. Out of all the piles of dirt, garbage, and shit we have been handed, we can grow a patch of daisies. #Quote by Patti Feuereisen

#17. I do love Oregon." My gaze wanders over the quiet, natural beauty surrounding us, which isn't limited to just this garden. "Being near the river, and the ocean, and the rocky mountains, and all this nature ... the weather."
He chuckles. "I've never met anyone who actually loves rain. It's kind of weird. But cool, too," he adds quickly, as if afraid to offend me. "I just don't get it."
I shrug. "It's not so much that I love rain. I just have a healthy respect for what if does. People hate it, but the world needs rain. It washes away dirt, dilutes the toxins in the air, feeds drought. It keeps everything around us alive."
"Well, I have a healthy respect for what the sun does," he counters with a smile."
"I'd rather have the sun after a good, hard rainfall."
He just shakes his head at me but he's smiling. "The good with the bad?"
"Isn't that life?"
He frowns. "Why do I sense a metaphor behind that?"
"Maybe there is a metaphor behind that." One I can't very well explain to him without describing the kinds of things I see every day in my life. The underbelly of society - where twisted morals reign and predators lurk, preying on the lost, the broken, the weak, the innocent. Where a thirteen-year-old sells her body rather than live under the same roof as her abusive parents, where punks gang-rape a drunk girl and then post pictures of it all over the internet so the world can relive it with her. Where a junkie mom's drug addiction is readily f #Quote by K.A. Tucker

#18. No man but Emerson would have considered walking across the fields in full evening kit, much less expect me to trail my red satin skirts and lace ruffles through the dirt; but Emerson is unique. When he behaves irrationally it is necessary to be firm with him. He #Quote by Elizabeth Peters

#19. The steel-framed span loomed thirty feet above the muddy water. At the far end of the hundred-foot deck, the forest swallowed up a dirt road that used to lead somewhere. Years of traffic rumbling across the bridge had worn parallel streaks into the deck, and heavy runner boards covered holes in rotted planks. Metal rails sagged in spots. Still, the reddish-brown truss beams on either side stood stiff and straight, and overhead braces cast shadows on the deck below. On that rusty frame, between lines of vertical rivets, someone had painted a skull and crossbones and scribbled: 'Danger, This Is You. #Quote by Jason Morgan Ward

#20. Work at things before they've begun
and establish order before confusion sets in,
for a tree you can barely reach around
grows from the tiniest rootlet,
a nine-tiered tower
starts as a basket of dirt,
a thousand-mile journey
begins with a single step. #Quote by Lao-Tzu

#21. I've been arguing on the side of a dirt road with a petulant singer who's wearing a guitar on his back. This entire scene is a mess, and maybe we're a mess, too. But it's still him and still me, and there's still that feeling of possibility - the one that sparks like a Roman candle inside me as his lips touch mine. And it's a start. #Quote by Emery Lord

#22. My virginity's still intact, Guy," I say as I stand up and brush the dirt from my butt. "Yours, on the other hand, has been gone for so long I've seen it on the side of a milk carton. #Quote by Cheryl McIntyre

#23. It makes me feel primitive, rooted, connected to the dirt of the earth and the light of the stars, a spun thread pulled across the span of generations. #Quote by Jon McGregor

#24. Ranulf stared blankly into the campfire, trying to ignore Lily.
"White horses always look dirty," Lily told the young smitten soldier sitting beside her. "That's why I refuse to ride them.Brown ones may be just as filthy,but at least I cannot see the dirt. Black ones less so,but I have found that in general dark horses suit me better."
"You just think you look better on them," Edythe protested before succumbing to several seconds of coughing.
Bronwyn studied her redheaded sister for a moment.Tyr put another blanket around Edythe's shoulders and eventually the coughs quieted. Turning her attention to Ranulf,Bronwyn promised him softly, "You'll have to ignore them."
Ranulf grimaced and sent a reproving look to his youngest sister-in-law. It,just like the others he had sent Lily throughout the day,changed nothing. "I just find it hard to reconcile the child I hear now with the woman who appeared after your death. With you gone,she had to grow up.Now that you are back..."
Bronwyn snuggled up against his side with a sigh. "I admit I encourage it.Life will force Lily to grow up soon enough and I am glad it was not my death that thrust it upon her. In the meantime,you ignore her prattle and I'll just be amused it," she advised before planting a gentle kiss on his arm.
Ranulf,with his free hand, raked his fingers through his short hair. How had he gotten into this predicament? But it took only one look at the huddled form next to him to remember exactly #Quote by Michele Sinclair

#25. When the world throws dirt at seeds they create gardens, not tears. #Quote by Matshona Dhliwayo

#26. It pulled out of the dirt lot, kicking up a rooster-tail of dust behind it. The taillights dwindled away to red points down Highway 63, and the Nebraska nightwind began to pull the hanging dust apart. #Quote by Stephen King

#27. Every job from the heart is, ultimately, of equal value. The nurse injects the syringe; the writer slides the pen; the farmer plows the dirt; the comedian draws the laughter. Monetary income is the perfect deceiver of a man's true worth. #Quote by Criss Jami

#28. I like owning dirt. You know, I spent a lot of time broke when I moved to California. So deep in my soul is still this idea of being unemployed. To me, owning land means you could sell it at some point and have money. #Quote by George Clooney

#29. William leaned forward and pointed at the river. "I don't know why you rolled in spaghetti sauce," he said in a confidential voice. "I don't really care. But that water over there won't hurt you. Try washing it off."
She stuck her tongue out.
"Maybe after you're clean," he said.
Her eyes widened. She stared at him for a long moment. A little crazy spark lit up in her dark irises.
She raised her finger, licked it, and rubbed some dirt off her forehead.
Now what?
The girl showed him her stained finger and reached toward him slowly, aiming for his face.
"No," William said. "Bad hobo. #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#30. I fill my lungs with the scent of lightning-born ozone, and cool air pushing out the heat, and the earth, opening up, releasing everything that's been baked into it by the searing sun. Dirt. Life. Country. Summer. #Quote by Tudor Robins

#31. What is it you want?"
My heart pounded at his promise of freedom. I followed his gaze to my hands and the dirt under my nails. "You," I said. #Quote by Kim Harrison

#32. I have great childhood memories cow-tipping, going off and getting lost in the bog for hours, and coming home covered in dirt. #Quote by Emily Ratajkowski

#33. Ours is the only religion that does not depend on a person or persons; it is based upon principles. At the same time there is room for millions of persons. There is ample ground for introducing persons, but each one of them must be an illustration of the principles. We must not forget that. These principles of our religion are all safe, and it should be the life-work of everyone of us to keep then safe, and to keep them free from the accumulating dirt and dust of ages. #Quote by Swami Vivekananda

#34. We bend. I bend to sweep crumbs and I bend to wipe vomit and I bend to pick up little ones and wipe away tears ... And at the end of these days I bend next to the bed and I ask only that I could bend more, bend lower. Because I serve a Savior who came to be a servant. He lived bent low. And bent down here is where I see His face. He lived, only to die. Could I? Die to self and just break open for love. This Savior, His one purpose to spend Himself on behalf of messy us. Will I spend myself on behalf of those in front of me? And people say, "Don't you get tired?" and yes, I do. But I'm face to face with Jesus in the dirt, and the more I bend the harder and better and fuller this life gets. And sure, we are tired, but oh we are happy. Because bent down low is where we find fullness of Joy. #Quote by Katie J. Davis

#35. A star will shine in the midst of darkness.
A flower will bloom in the midst of dirt.
A camel will flourish in the midst of doubt.
A diamond will form in the midst of pressure.
A champion will rise in the midst of hardship. #Quote by Matshona Dhliwayo

#36. I find myself drunk in the streets again.
A glass of wine and so my thoughts begin.
I smile at passersby to and fro,
Faces like blank slates minutes ago,
Now emotions readily painted on canvases:
Grief, despair, joy, and madnesses.

At this time, the clouds are sweating sweet water
And you can smell the scent of each corner:
Fish, dirt, rotten apples, and burning tires.
Close your eyes here to smell all your heart desires.
Everything is more colourful when you're not yourself.
So long as you're sound body and mind, you have your wealth.

I am now treading almost fleeting.
Birds singing, bicycle bells ringing.
I have lost my way but not my heart.
Have my head, those two are apart.
Take care dear city, I must soon head home.
Until tomorrow evening when again I will roam. #Quote by Kamand Kojouri

#37. Fourth avenue was a red dog road. Red dog is burned out trash coal. If the coal had too much slate, it was piled in a slag heap and burned. The coal burned up, but the slate didn't The heat turned it every shade of red and orange and lavender you could imagine. When the red on our road got buried under rutted dirt or mud, dump trucks would pour new loads of the sharp-edged rock. My best friend Sissy and I followed along after the truck, looking for fossils. We found ferns and shells and snails, and once I found a perfect imprint of a four-leaf clover. #Quote by Drema Hall Berkheimer

#38. it was too late, the buildings were falling to dust, eaten by the invisible jaws of quantum desintegrators, and hostiles had ringed the city in deadly mechas. that void of obliteration plucked me away from any kind of hope. no warning was made, only the halo of plasma guns juicing up behind walls of lifeless wreck. and then i was buried in the dirt left only for the gods to remember #Quote by Unknown

#39. Oh, yes, his family is all very fine, Miss Summerson," replied Miss Jellyby; "but what comfort is his family to him? His family is nothing but bills, dirt, waste, noise, tumbles downstairs, confusion, and wretchedness. His scrambling home, from week's end to week's end, is like one great washing-day - only nothing's washed! #Quote by Charles Dickens

#40. If you have a son, how will you love him?
She is pacing the living room,
while the Thanksgiving Day Parade
plays behind her, a montage of inflated
cartoon bodies, floating slow
down 6th Avenue, smiles
painted onto their faces.

I consider not responding.
I consider explaining that I can love him and not trust him. I consider saying that I won't
love him at all. Just to scare her. Instead, I say,

If I am ever murdered, like,
body found in a ditch, mouth
stuffed with dirt, stocking
around my neck, identified
by my toenails, please don't go
looking for a guilty woman.

("My Grandmother Asks Why I Don't Trust Men") #Quote by Olivia Gatwood

#41. The tiny seed knew that in order to grow, it needed to be dropped in dirt, covered in darkness, struggle to reach the light. #Quote by Sandra Kring

#42. I have developed a rash on my body where the rough cloth rubs on my skin. I wanted to take a bath, thinking that the dirt on my skin made the rash worse, but the bathing tub has been turned upside down and is being used as an extra table in the kitchen and i cannot have it until spring, so I just spread goose grease on my rash. The dogs are following me everywhere. #Quote by Karen Cushman

#43. And doing what is good for you is always the worst thing. Even if it works out all right in the end, it is the worst thing when it first happens - just the way things that seem good for you can turn out bad, bad as dirt. #Quote by Gary Paulsen

#44. The very first as a cardinal rule for a person to build trust is to do must only that what is humanly just as that helps to wipe and wither away those parasitic people stuck to his life as dirt and dust. #Quote by Anuj

#45. A street turned off at right angles, descending, and became a dirt road. On either hand the land dropped more sharply; a broad flat dotted with small cabins whose weathered roofs were on a level with the crown of the road. They were set in small grassless plots littered with broken things, bricks, planks, crockery, things of a once utilitarian value. What growth there was consisted of rank weeds and the trees were mulberries and locusts and sycamores
trees that partook also of the foul desiccation which surrounded the houses; trees whose very burgeoning seemed to be the sad and stubborn remnant of September, as if even spring had passed them by, leaving them to feed upon the rich and unmistakable smell of negroes in which they grew. #Quote by William Faulkner

#46. love Mary, everyone does, but she's old as dirt. #Quote by Dawn Martens

#47. What do you have in mind? Rebuild the city?" Eric asks. "Or should we skip to the repopulating part?"
"Shut up," Jost commands. "You aren't funny."
"Why? That's the nice part of getting stuck on a completely forsaken piece of dirt."
"You better hope that you find someone to help you do it then, because she's taken. I'm sure there's a nice dog around here somewhere. Maybe you should stick to your own species," Jost says. #Quote by Gennifer Albin

#48. As a result of all this hardship, dirt, thirst, and wombats, you would expect Australians to be a dour lot. Instead, they are genial, jolly, cheerful, and always willing to share a kind word with a stranger, unless they are an American. #Quote by Douglas Adams

#49. The Scholars around us scatter, running every which way, driven by a fear that's been hammered into our bones. Always us! Our dignity shredded, our families annihilated, our children torn from their parents. Our blood soaking the dirt. What sin was so great that Scholars must pay, with every generation, with the only thing we have left: our lives? #Quote by Sabaa Tahir