Lawn Boy Quotes & Sayings

I don't think it's fair - you get married, you give your wife a wedding ring. I think you should give her a mood ring. Oh, it may sound crass, but just check the color when you come home. 'Hi honey. Infernal red? Oh boy, I ain't getting laid, and I gotta cut the lawn, I know it.' — Adam Ferrara

Good heavens," Gertrude yelled, sitting forward on the seat as she interrupted Everett and pointed at something in the distance. "Are those peacocks trying to run that boy down?" Swinging his attention to where Gertrude was pointing, Everett felt his mouth drop open at the sight that met his eyes. Peacocks were streaming over the lawn, the largest ones in the front, followed by what appeared to be babies, and . . . they were chasing after a small boy - who had to be Thaddeus, but . . . he was wearing pants - and . . . from all appearances, he seemed to be running for his very life. "Driver, — Jen Turano

Too often we take blessings for granted, like the sun, the air, health, and opportunity. Or we accept favors, honors, and privileges day after day as did the lepers their newfound health, without a word of thanks. We would thank the person who gives us a seat in the bus, the person who offers a ride, the friend who picks up the check after dinner, the person who does the baby-sitting, or the boy who cuts our lawn, but do we express gratitude to Him who gives us all? — Spencer W. Kimball

He thought how wonderful it would be if he could take off his shoes and walk barefooted in the grass the way he used to do in the park when he was a boy. What a fine picture that would be - the President walking barefooted on the White House lawn - and he knew if he did it the picture would be reproduced in one hundred million homes across the nation and the world and it would win him votes. The people liked to think of the President being a bit impulsive when it came to matters of the heart, a bit comic in domestic affairs, a bit inferior to each of them in some way.... — James Edwin Gunn

I nodded, disappointed, but then I got an idea. "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"
His eyes lit up. "Me?"
Pretty soon we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch.
"Maia!" he shouted.
He got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.
"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice!"
"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van. — Rick Riordan

One day, I was on the front lawn of the property and aimed the gun at a sparrow perched high in a tree. Hazel Goldreich, Arthur's wife, was watching me and jokingly remarked that I would never hit the target. But she had hardly finished the sentence when the sparrow fell to the ground. I turned to her and was about to boast, when the Goldreichs' son Paul, then about five years old, turned to me with tears in his eyes and said, "David, why did you kill that bird? Its mother will be sad." My mood immediately shifted from one of pride to shame; I felt that this small boy had far more humanity than I did. It was an odd sensation for a man who was the leader of a nascent guerrilla army. — Nelson Mandela

They were just passing the Evanses' house, Rose making gruesome faces in case they were spying out their windows, when Abby felt someone take her elbow, and she turned to find Zander Burley, his arm now linked with hers. "Happy Valentine's Day," he said, "one day late." He withdrew his arm and loped ahead of Abby and Rose, along the sidewalk and across the lawn to his front door. Abby watched him, thinking that he moved very gracefully for a boy, and noticing that his jaw had grown squarer and his shoulders broader. "Abby has a boyfriend!" Rose chanted when Zander was out of earshot. "No, I don't. — Ann M. Martin

The Allegory of the Wolf Boy" ("At tennis and at tea/Upon the gentle lawn, he is not ours,/But plays us in a sad duplicity"). — Oliver Sacks

So they spread the paintings on the lawn, and the boy explained each of them. "This is the school, and this is the playground, and these are my friends." He stared at the paintings for a long time and then shook his head in discouragement. "In my mind, they were a whole lot better."
Isn't that the truth? Every morning, I go to my desk and reread yesterday's pages, only to be discouraged that the prose isn't as good as it seemed during the excitement of composition. In my mind, it was a whole lot better.
Don't give in to doubt. Never be discouraged if your first draft isn't what you thought it would be. Given skill and a story that compels you, muster your determination and make what's on the page closer to what you have in your mind. — David Morrell

Lawn Boy by Gary Paulsen — Gary Paulsen