Explore Quotes on Dirt

Let me tell you, though - there’s a huge difference between Flanders and Paris–Roubaix. They’re not even close to the same. In one, the cobbles are used every day by the cars, and kept up, and stuff like that. The other one - it’s completely different … The best I could do would be to describe it like this - they plowed a dirt road, flew over it with a helicopter, and then just dropped a bunch of rocks out of the helicopter! That’s Paris–Roubaix. It’s that bad - it’s ridiculous.

I think sometimes all you need is to hear someone else say the same thing that you're going through to realize that you're not alone. I try to put some sense of hope into the songs, into whatever the situation is so that it's not just dirt, drudgery and a life of misery.

Carob works on the principle that, when mixed with the right combination of fats and sugar, it can duplicate chocolate in color and texture. Of course, the same can be said of dirt.

Carob is a brown powder made from the pulverized fruit of a Mediterranean evergreen. Some consider carob an adequate substitute for chocolate because it has some similar nutrients (calcium, phosphorus), and because it can. when combined with vegetable fat and sugar, be made to approximate the colour and consistency of chocolate. Of course, the same arguments can as persuasively be made in favour of dirt.

The greater the wealth the thicker will be the dirt.

People are like dirt. They can either nourish you and help you grow as a person or they can stunt your growth and make you wilt and die.

I remember when I fell from my first bike:_x000D__x000D_There were no 'Are you okays?' and rarely 'Are you alrights?'_x000D__x000D_Just dirt in my pockets, handful of gravel..._x000D__x000D_That's when I realized that getting up is only half the battle.

I make niggas eat dirt and fart dust,_x000D__x000D_Then give you a $80 gift certificate to Pussies "Я" Us.

There is no need to do any housework at all. After the first four years the dirt doesn't get any worse.

Being a celebrity stylist, there are many tricks of the trade that I use in my house and with my clients. The Mr. Clean Magic Eraser has so many uses, so it's my secret cleaning tool for keeping my shoes - like the vintage Air Jordan's I am obsessing over now - and my clients' shoes, scuff and dirt free.

What you do on a dinosaur expedition is you hike and look at the ground. You find bones sticking out of the dirt and, once you see something, you dig.

When a man makes utensils out of a metal which has been thoroughly cleansed of dross, the utensils will be excellent. You monks, who wish to follow the Way, make your own hearts clean from the dirt of evil passion, and your conduct will be unimpeachable.

You've been given status today, but never forget where you came from. You came from dirt and will return to dirt. You will be on that day as you began: just you and Him.

Pornography is the attempt to insult sex, to do dirt on it.

The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body, but the soul. Share the botanical bliss of gardeners through the ages, who have cultivated philosophies to apply to their own - and our own - lives: Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.

I loved raising my kids. I loved the process, the dirt of it, the tears of it, the frustration of it, Christmas, Easter, birthdays, growth charts, pediatrician appointments. I loved all of it.

When I speak of the aspiration towards the beautiful, of the ideal as the ultimate aim of art, which grows from a yearning for that ideal, I am not for a moment suggesting that art should shun the 'dirt' of the world. On the contrary! the artistic image is always a metonym, where one thing is substituted for another, the smaller for the greater. To tell of what is living, the artist uses something dead; to speak of the infinite, he shows the finite. Substitution... the infinite cannot be made into matter, but it is possible to create an illusion of the infinite: the image.

I may not yet be as old as dirt, but dirt and I are starting to have an awful lot in common.

Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day. The housewife wears herself out marking time: she makes nothing, simply perpetuates the present … Eating, sleeping, cleaning – the years no longer rise up towards heaven, they lie spread out ahead, grey and identical. The battle against dust and dirt is never won.

I'm banned from Middlebrook elementary for telling dirty jokes to the janitor. The janitor! He cleans up dirt for a living.

The other day, I was so desperate for a beer, I snuck into the football stadium and ate the dirt under the bleachers.