Burrs Quotes & Sayings

Did you know your hair is just precisely the same shade as a teak inlaid ceiling in a monastery I once stayed at — Stephenie Meyer

For I inhabit the spaces in between, where auras mix and hearts reach out and knowing hovers, and where sticks against each human the little burrs of others, long-ago brushed against but never forgot. — The Wind Sophia In Featherfoot

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility. — William Shakespeare

We have a sense that we should be like the mythical cowboy ... able to take on and conquer anything and live in the world without the need for other people. — Morrie Schwartz.

No, Lord Maccon was riproaring, tumble down, without a doubt, pickled beyond the gherkin. — Gail Carriger

Bit burrs. Tongue-tying. Saddling for exercise and saddling for races. There was shoeing and bandaging, conditioning and equipment. I had to learn to read track surfaces and stakes sheets, and calculate weight allowances. I had to know the diseases and ailments forward and back - bowed tendons and splints, foundering, bucked shins, bone chips, slab fractures, and quarter cracks. Thoroughbreds were glorious and also fragile in very specific ways. They often had small hearts, and the exertion of racing also made them susceptible to haemorrhaging in the lungs. Undetected colic could kill them - and — Paula McLain

When adjusting your grinder, make sure the grinder is running. This is because the grinding burrs need to move closer for a finer grind. Since coffee is actually a very hard material, if you adjust it with it off, you can stress the adjustment mechanism and actually damage the machine! — Luca Vincenzo

The atom can't be seen, yet its existence can be proved. And it is simple to prove that it can't ever be seen. It has to be studied by indirect evidence - and the technical difficulty has been compared to asking a man who has never seen a piano to describe a piano from the sound it would make falling downstairs in the dark. — Carl David Anderson

But strength alone, though of the Muses born, Is like a fallen angel: trees uptorn, Darkness, and worms, and shrouds, and sepulchers Delight it; for it feeds upon the burrs And thorns of life; forgetting the great end Of poesy, that it should be a friend To soothe the cares, and lift the thoughts of man. KEATS CALIFORNIA, 1850 — Francine Rivers

These bits of poetry that stick to her like burrs. — Jenny Offill

Are you a fun-loving Tigger or a sad-sack Eeyore? Pick a camp. I think it's clear where I stand on the great Tigger/Eeyore debate! — Randy Pausch

And the violet lay dead while the odour flew On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue. — Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

There was a day when one could honestly and innocently enjoy the sheer pleasure of a good sticky toffee pudding; when ice cream was nice cream and Bakewell tart really was baked well. Tastes change, though, and the world of the sweet has often been sour, having to go through some dramatic overhaulage in order to keep pace. Whilst a straightforward sausage and a common kedgeree maintain their hold on the nation's culinary choices, the pudding has to stay on its toes to tantalise our taste buds. From low fat through to no fat, from sugar free through to taste free; what the next stage is we can only wait and see ... '
CILLA BUBB. Don't Desert Your Desserts — Jasper Fforde

The real story of our times is seldom told in the horse-puckey-filled memoirs of dopey, self-serving presidents or generals, but in the outrageous, demented lives of guys like Lenny Bruce, Giordano Bruno, Scott Fitzgerald - and Paul Krassner. The burrs under society's saddle. The pains in the ass. — Harlan Ellison

Whether we know it or not, we transmit the presence of everyone we have ever known, as though by being in each other's presence we exchange our cells, pass on some of our life force, and then we go on carrying that other person in our body, not unlike springtime when certain plants in fields we walk through attach their seeds in the form of small burrs to our socks, our pants, our caps, as if to say, "Go on, take us with you, carry us to root in another place." This is how we survive long after we are dead. This is why it is important who we become, because we pass it on. — Natalie Goldberg

As we walk our individual life journeys, we pick up resentments and hurts, which attach themselves to our souls like burrs clinging to a hiker's socks. These stowaways may seem insignificant at first, but, over time, if we do not occasionally stop and shake them free, the accumulation becomes a burden to our souls. — Richard Paul Evans

I loathe people who say, 'I always read the ending of the book first.' That really irritates me, It's like someone coming to dinner, just opening the fridge and eating pudding, while you're standing there still working on the starter. It's not on. — J.K. Rowling

The child probably overheard their voices; for, looking up to the window, with a bright, but naughty smile of mirth and intelligence, she threw one of the prickly burrs at the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale. The sensitive clergyman shrunk, with nervous dread, from the light missile. — Nathaniel Hawthorne

Adivce from a horse
Take life's hurdels in stride.
Loosen the reins.
Be free sprited.
Keep the burrs from under your saddle.
Carry your friends when they need it.
Keep stable.
Gallop to greatness. — Ilan Shamir

A swing is like a car. You've got the fan belt, carburetor, pistons, spark plugs, fuel pump. If any part isn't working, the car doesn't run. Same way with hitting. — Wade Boggs

The words of some men are thrown forcibly against you and adhere like burrs. — Henry David Thoreau

The trip home always seemed to take half the time, because Murphy and Little Paint were eager for their dinner. We clung like burrs on their backs and rode like the wind. We were eager for our dinner too. — Linda Ronstadt

The concrete highway was edged with a mat of tangled, broken, dry grass, and the grass heads were heavy with oat beards to catch on a dog's coat, and foxtails to tangle in a horse's fetlocks, and clover burrs to fasten in sheep's wool; sleeping life waiting to be spread and dispersed, every seed armed with an appliance of dispersal, twisting darts and parachutes for the wind, little spears and balls of tiny thorns, and all waiting for animals and for the wind, for a man's trouser cuff or the hem of a woman's skirt, all passive but armed with appliances of activity, still, but each possessed of the anlage of movement. — John Steinbeck

Scholars and artists thrown together are often annoyed at the puzzle of where they differ. Both work from knowledge; but I suspectthey differ most importantly in the way their knowledge is come by. Scholars get theirs with conscientious thoroughness along projected lines of logic; poets theirs cavalierly and as it happens in and out of books. They stick to nothing deliberately, but let what will stick to them like burrs where they walk in the fields. — Robert Frost