a windy March is lucky. Every pint of March dust brings a peck of September corn, and a pound of October cotton.
But let the good old corn adorn The hills our fathers trod; Still let us, for his golden corn, Send up our thanks to God!
The miller imagines that the corn grows only to make his mill turn.
Corn is a greedy crop, as farmers will tell you.
When I was a kid, Halloween was strictly a starchy-vegetable-only holiday, with pumpkins and Indian corn on the front stoop; there was nothing electric, nothing inflatable, nothing with latex membranes or strobes.
Our typical Western diet is full of inflammatory fats - saturated fats, trans fats, too many omega-6, inflammatory, processed vegetable oils like soy and corn oils. These increase IGF-1 and stimulate pimple follicles.
All the food we eat - every grain of rice and kernel of corn - has been genetically modified. None of it was here before mankind learned to cultivate crops. The question isnt whether our food has been modified, but how.
Candy corn. For Halloween that is my favorite candy, but it doesn't come around that often and I like that.
I believe in the forest, and in the meadow, and in the night in which the corn grows.
She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
What you farmers need to do is raise less corn and more Hell.
Though your threshing floor grind a hundred thousand bushels of corn, not for that reason will your stomach hold more than mine.
All of the people of my time were bound with chains. They had forgotten the long fields and the standing corn. They had forgotten the west winds.
I ain't gonna pay no dollar for a corn muffin that's half dough.
Then plough deep while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep.
Liberals have one solution for every economic issue; eat the seed corn.
A Man of Knowledge like a rich Soil, feeds If not a world of Corn, a world of Weeds.
Two sparrows on one Ear of Corn make an ill agreement.
Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil and you're a thousand miles from the corn field.
What you need for breakfast, they say in East Tennessee, is a jug of good corn liquor, a thick steak and a hound dog. Then you feed the steak to the dog.