Quotes by Richard Adams

“Many human beings say that they enjoy the winter, but what they really enjoy is feeling proof against it”

“My heart has joined the thousand, for my friend stopped running today.”

“Its primarily to impress Wall Street.”

“We are all human and fall short of where we need to be. We must never stop trying to be the best we can be.”

“This was just with gross negligence. Sometimes saying sorry is enough and sometimes it is not and I am afraid this is one of those times,”

“Police spoke to people inside and outside of the bar regarding the incident, and they refused to give any information, ... And also when county detectives spoke to them, they refused to give any information.”

“To me this award is about our people and our company.”

“Its now in the winter and we should try this out to see if some of these concerns are right on or if we allow this we should monitor it. We should take the opportunity to review the concerns outlined.”

“We are obviously pleased with the 8th Circuits decision and look forward to having the opportunity to prosecute this important case in Miller County,”

“We can show that booking online frequently generates a 15 percent saving on ticket prices, and savings in travel management fees of approximately 50 percent,”

A thing can be true and still be desperate folly, Hazel.

My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today.

Like the pain of a bad wound, the effect of a deep shock takes some while to be felt. When a child is told, for the first time in his life, that a person he has known is dead, although he does not disbelieve it, he may well fail to comprehend it and later ask--perhaps more than once--where the dead person is and when he is coming back.

There is not a day or night but a doe offers her life for her kittens, or some honest captain of Owsla his life for his Chief Rabbits. Sometimes it is taken, sometimes it is not. But there is no bargain, for here, what is, is what must be.

Would that the dead were not dead! But there is grass that must be eaten, pellets that must be chewed, hraka that must be passed, holes that must be dug, sleep that must be slept.

This was their way of honoring the dead. The story over, the demands of their own hard, rough lives began to re-assert themselves in their hearts, in their nerves, their blood and appetites. Would that the dead were not dead! But there is grass that must be eaten, pellets that must be chewed, hraka that must be passed, holes that must be dug, sleep that must be slept. Odysseus brings not one man to shore with him. Yet he sleeps sound beside Calypso and when he wakes thinks only of Penelope.

Bargains, bargains, El-ahrairah, he said. There is not a day or night but a doe offers her life for her kittens, or some honest captain of Owsla his life for his Chief Rabbits. Sometimes it is taken, sometimes it is not. But there is no bargain, for here what is is what must be.

Theyre all so much afraid of the Council that theyre not afraid of anything else.

You cant call your life your own: and in return you have safety, if its worth having at the price you pay.

The full moon, well risen in a cloudless eastern sky, covered the high solitude with its light. We are not conscious of daylight as that which displaces darkness. Daylight, even when the sun is clear of clouds, seems to us simply the natural condition of the earth and air. When we think of the downs, we think of the downs in daylight, as with think of a rabbit with its fur on. Stubbs may have envisaged the skeleton inside the horse, but most of us do not: and we do not usually envisage the downs without daylight, even though the light is not a part of the down itself as the hide is part of the horse itself. We take daylight for granted. But moonlight is another matter. It is inconstant. The full moon wanes and returns again. Clouds may obscure it to an extent to which they cannot obscure daylight. Water is necessary to us, but a waterfall is not. Where it is to be found it is something extra, a beautiful ornament. We need daylight and to that extent it us utilitarian, but moonlight we do not need. When it comes, it serves no necessity. It transforms. It falls upon the banks and the grass, separating one long blade from another; turning a drift of brown, frosted leaves from a single heap to innumerable flashing fragments; or glimmering lengthways along wet twigs as though light itself were ductile. Its long beams pour, white and sharp, between the trunks of trees, their clarity fading as they recede into the powdery, misty distance of beech woods at night. In moonlight, two acres of coarse bent grass, undulant and ankle deep, tumbled and rough as a horses mane, appear like a bay of waves, all shadowy troughs and hollows. The growth is so thick and matted that event the wind does not move it, but it is the moonlight that seems to confer stillness upon it. We do not take moonlight for granted. It is like snow, or like the dew on a July morning. It does not reveal but changes what it covers. And its low intensity---so much lower than that of daylight---makes us conscious that it is something added to the down, to give it, for only a little time, a singular and marvelous quality that we should admire while we can, for soon it will be gone again.