The humans were protecting their heritage, or so they thought. Strange that Mud Men seem more concerned about the past than the present.
Hockey would be a great game. . . if played in the mud.
From the drawing-room window I see pass almost daily an old gentleman with white hair, a firm step, broad shoulders, healthy pink skin, a sunny smile - always singing to himself as he goes - a happy, rosy-cheeked old fellow, with a rosy-cheeked mind I should like to throw mud at him.
I was some of the mud that got to sit up and look around. Lucky me, lucky mud.
My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?
I have to understand the nature of change. And I cannot just work with stone or the more permanent materials. I need to work with leaves and ice and snow and mud and clay and water and the rising tide and the wind and all these.
The Devil is like a strainer that separates the mud from the gold.
I want to thank you my sweet darling for digging in the mud and picking me up.
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar.
A politician must have some scruples, a certain decency; he cannot smear himself in the mud for the sake of a high ideal.
Writing in English is like throwing mud at a wall.
I'm actually as common as mud. I'm not particularly well read, or bred. But the way I look. . . I seem to have this sort of 'aristocratic' demeanor.
Humans are animals and like all animals we leave tracks as we walk: signs of passage made in snow, sand, mud, grass, dew, earth or moss. . . . We easily forget that we are track-markers, through, because most of our journeys now occur on asphalt and concrete--and these are substances not easily impressed.
We must not stay as we are, doing always what was done last time; or we shall stick in the mud.
One of the characteristics of mudslinging is that mud sticks if it's thrown with enough force for long enough.
Ulysses. . . is a dogged attempt to cover the universe with mud, an inverted Victorianism, an attempt to make crossness and dirt succeed where sweetness and light failed, a simplification of the human character in the interests of Hell.
This has always been the way of presidential politics. The president rises above the fray while his surrogates go on the attack. They throw the spears and fling the mud; he sits upon the throne.
Who among us is not thinking about divorce, except for a few tiny-minded stick-in-the-muds who don't count?
You have to lift your head up out of the mud and just do it.
O German mother dreaming by the fire, While you are knitting socks to send your son His face is trodden deeper in the mud.