Dirt Quotes
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Dirt makes a man look masculine. Let your hair blow in the wind, and all that. It's OK. All you have to do is look neat when you have to look neat.
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The root of things, what they were all afraid of saying, was that happiness is dirt cheap. You can have it for nothing. Beauty.
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What happens is we're all gonna return to dirt, so at the end of the day we're all equal.
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A new broom can sweep the floor, but an old broom knows where the dirt is.
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And what a congress of stinks!- Roots ripe as old bait, Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich, Leaf mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks, Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
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In Nature there is no dirt, everything is in the right condition; the swamp and the worm, as well as the grass and the bird,-all is there for itself.
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The President eats dirt and excrement for his daily meals, likes it and tries to force it on The States.
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Never mind a little dirt, if the goal is splendid!
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Dirt has been shrewdly termed "misplaced material.
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I think there is some real therapy in getting your hands in the dirt and working with food.
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To clean your face thoroughly, even do a scrub, and let it sit and make sure your pores are clean before you go to club. If it sits on your face overnight, dirt just builds up. Even just laying there the whole night, stuff gets on your face, so anything else there is just really not good.
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That's not dirt. That's trampled down dog doo.
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Ego is even worse than dirt and filth because it attacks others.
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What we need to change is our minds, that's the part that's doing us dirt and dragging us under. How can we change our minds.
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I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.
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The other day, I was so desperate for a beer, I snuck into the football stadium and ate the dirt under the bleachers.
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You can grow flowers from where dirt use to be.
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I sing of a woman with ink on her hands and pictures hidden beneath her hair. I sing of a dog with skin like velvet pushed the wrong way.I sing of the shape a fallen body makes in the dirt beneath a tree, and I sing of an ordinary man who is wanted to know things no human being could tell him.This is the true beginning.
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Dirt rolls from his palm, Blades of grass Tumble from his hair.
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I know real dirt looks nothing like this. Nothing like soft blood flecked with black bone.
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I think, so often, we can let our circumstances dictate what our value is. And I have to remember that my value is the same whether I'm in the dirt or I'm picked up and dusted off.
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Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt keeps breathing a small breath.
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I grew up in the south, poor - on rock, dirt roads.
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The world had gotten gritty enough. The only thing left to do in all that dirt was to shine.
