Dirt Path Quotes & Sayings
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Top Dirt Path Quotes

The Outing
An outburst of anger near the road, a refusal to speak on the path, a silence in the pine woods, a silence across the old railroad bridge, an attempt to be friendly in the water, a refusal to end the argument on the flat stones, a cry of anger on the steep bank of dirt, a weeping among the bushes. — Lydia Davis

On and on and on the stories will go, and in their path will lie squalor: blood and bones and dirt and disease and misery. — Hanya Yanagihara

So with a lot of difficulty, I picked up this huge snapping turtle and slowly carried it down the road to the river.
Just as I had slipped it into the water and was watching it swim away, my geology professor came up behind me. "You know," he said quietly, "that turtle has probably spent a month crawling up the dirt path to lay its eggs in the mud on the side of the road - you have just put it back in the river."
I felt terrible. I couldn't believe what I had done, but it was too late. It took me many more years to realize this parable had taught me the first rule of organizing.
Always ask the turtle. — Gloria Steinem

I didn't do anything.I fumble with tears."
"You listened." She handed him back his bandanna.
"Mostly because tears render me speechless.You've a bit of garden dirt here."
Keeley came down the path just in time to see Brian gently wipe her mother's face with a blue bandanna.The tearstains had her leaping forward like a mama bear to her threatened cub.
"What is it? What did you do?" Hissing at Brian, she wrapped an arm around Adelia's shoudler.
"Nothing.I just knocked your mother down and kicked her a few times. — Nora Roberts

Of all the paths you take in life,
make sure a few of them are dirt. — John Muir

That tank," Bucktooth pointed at the gas gauge on the dashboard of the decidedly unfredneck-like '65 Dodge Dart, "is almost empty. We ain't going much farther."
"Indeed it is." A solemn Phosphate agreed. "I suggest we stop the car and weigh our options."
"What options?" Professor Buckley asked. "Why do-that is- we've been traveling up and down this path for over an hour without seeing anyone or encountering anything. Even the doughnut shop cannot be relocated. In light of this, what options do we have?"
It was difficult to argue with the ex-history teacher's typically alarmist position. Brisbane's reliable old automobile had indeed been expending its remaining fuel supply in what seemed to be a hopeless effort to exit the unnamed dirt path. After leaving the doughnut shop and the blonde presidential descendant who worked there, they'd been unable to find DeMohrenschildt Lane again, or any other side street. — Donald Jeffries

When I think about sanctification, a couple things immediately pop into my head. One is how slow it actually is. I think everybody wants the silver-bullet, the thing that makes sanctification move like a superhighway rather than the dirt path that it is. The other is that, by in large, the greatest single asset in ongoing sanctification is a serious pursuit of joy in the face of Jesus Christ. — Matt Chandler

It's scary when you enter the real world. It's like turning off the highway in the middle of nowhere. Maybe there's another road, or a dirt road, or nothing at all. But it's up to you to forge your own path. You can ask for advice, but ultimately, it's your road. And the good thing about this road is that it can go in any direction you want. You can turn left, turn right, turn around, get off the road completely onto another dirt road. All that freedom is scary, frankly. But eventually, you'll look in the rearview mirror and marvel at this amazing journey you built from nothing. Enjoy the journey. Enjoy the confusion. Enjoy making mistakes. That's how the best roads are built. — A.J. Truman

pulled into a dark tunnel. I found myself hurtling down an almost vertical dirt path, skipping over rocks and dirt patches like Indiana Jones until I hit bottom with a thud. Six years as a private investigator and I'd never fallen down a tree before. I caught my breath, got to my feet and dusted myself off. Good thing I never dress up for work. My old jeans and boots were none the worse for wear. I was wondering how I'd get back up to the surface when I noticed the flicker of golden sconces on — Linsey Lanier

Running was Clover's favorite thing to do, after reading. She loved the way the cement felt hard and unforgiving under her feet until she reached the park and the dirt path that wound its way alongside the Truckee River.
She liked the wind in her face and how it smelled like water. And the way Mango ran beside her, keeping her company. But most of all she liked the way the steady pace untangled her thoughts. — Shaunta Grimes

I got my face close up to the man still standing. I let him understand that there was oodles of danger in me; my head wobbled loose, three ticks off center. This scary face is all them such as me has to show this other world, the world in charge of our world, that musters any authority, gets any reluctant respect at all. If us lower elements didn't show our teeth plenty and act fast to bite, we'd just be soft, loamy dirt anybody could walk on, anytime, and you know they would, too, since even with a show of teeth there's a grassless path worn clear across our brains and backs. — Daniel Woodrell

I don't want to die, Buddy.' She put her head on his chest. 'I know this cancer probably won't kill me. But I think about dying all the time. I dream about it. What do you think? Do I get to see Pat on the other side, or do I just lie there in the dirt forever?'
... Buddy wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. 'I think dead is dead,' he said softly, near her ear. 'But that's not so bad. I think of it as following. Following the rest of them ... My mother and father. Your sister. Your mom. But not just them. All of them. All of us. People ... Maybe it's just a way to feel less lonesome about the whole thing, but I think of dying as a path we all go down separately at first, but eventually, together. — Anita Diamant

You collect a hunderd pennies in one minute by Master's timepiece and you bought yourself free. Then they shakes a jar of coppers onto the belly of a shovel and holds it over the campfire long time. When they think it fun enough, they say, get yourself ready, and now you go, boy. The pennies go in the dirt around the fire and I got to pick them up and keep hold on them." "Oh," said Ada, with a sound like a kind of punch in the air, or out of it. "I gets forty-two hot cents before that minute up," he said, holding out his hands again. "Here's the proof." "Oh," she said. "And no freedom." "Nothing next, but that we left," he said. "One by one, and not on the same path, turns out." "And here you are." "And wherever this be, I don't know. Some mystery or t'other." She lifted her shoulders and dropped them. "Well. With me I suppose. — Gregory Maguire