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“When a mood of "not belonging" is haunting our mind and tolling the bell for relief or happiness, life may be like a scar on the canvas of our dreams. Now is the time to wake up and slip back to the basics, in the vein of crawling back to mum's lap. ("The grass was greener over there")”
― Erik Pevernagie

“Move slowly and the day of your revenge will come," Tuek said. "Speed is a device of Shaitan. Cool your sorrow–we’ve the diversions for it; three things there are that ease the heart–water, green grass, and the beauty of woman.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

“When the grass is greener at other people's feet, it is not because the grass chose to take up that complexion. But it is because, they have deliberately irrigated it on regular accounts.”
― Israelmore Ayivor

“American women rock on both fields: bed and on the green grass.”
― Santosh Kalwar

“A walk you made by disappearing amongst the green grasses is always richer than a walk you make amongst the green emeralds!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Either Jupiter or Saturn was still visible, pale against the lightening sky. The wind was blustery and full of voices. I sat as sun lipped the horizon. The grass changed in the light, from brown to yellowish to green. The grass: it was green.
It was the end of March. I'd been in the country for three weeks. All around me, as if the scales had fallen from my eyes, I saw color flushing the slopes, a color I'd never again hoped to see: that green that is the herald of flavor and pleasure, that says: look, says: wait, says: taste: the gates of the underworld unlatched for mints and sorrels and pine-dark needles in shade and the pale sun-swell of the honeysuckle that bells out the triumphant return, after long winter, of a daughter. It was a green made possible by a man who held in his sway horticulturalists and biologists and chicken geneticists and meteorologists who could control the weather itself, and I forgot those wan, distant orbs in the sky as I opened my mouth, I bayed.
And then, at last, it was spring.”
― C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey

“It didn't help, reminding herself that if she were back in Blackpool she'd spend the afternoon aching to be in London. It just made her feel that she'd never be happy anywhere.”
― Nick Hornby, Funny Girl

“She passed under the ivy-grown lych-gate and walked between the yew trees. The graves were clustered together in groups, as if they had secrets to share and were turning over-the-shoulder eyes on incomers. The newly mown grass was cadmium green oil paint squeezed straight from the tube.
Stella leaned on the railings as she read the inscriptions on William and Dorothy's graves. The light made the lettering crisp and brought out the purples and golds of the lichens. Shadows bowed the head of the lamb on Dora Quillinan's gravestone; the trees beyond were full of the trilling of blackbirds, and lines of Wordsworth's "Lucy" poem came into Stella's mind.
"No motion has she now, no force, she neither hears nor sees," she whispered. "Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees."”
― Caroline Scott, Good Taste