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“Faltering thinking and indecisive conduct often result in losing ground and yielding to bleak caginess that generates the redoubtable Buridan’s syndrome. As Buridan’s ass is placed equally between a stack of hay and a pail of water, it dies of both hunger and thirst. ("The door was still ajar")”
― Erik Pevernagie

“As the sun shines I will make hay
To keep failure at bay
For there remaineth a pay
For my honest toil each day.”
― Ogwo David Emenike

“You alarm me!' said the King. 'I feel faint—Give me a ham sandwich!'

On which the Messenger, to Alice's great amusement, opened a bag that hung round his neck, and handed a sandwich to the King, who devoured it greedily.

'Another sandwich!' said the King.

'There's nothing but hay left now,' the Messenger said, peeping into the bag.

'Hay, then,' the King murmured in a faint whisper.

Alice was glad to see that it revived him a good deal. 'There's nothing like eating hay when you're faint,' he remarked to her, as he munched away.

'I should think throwing cold water over you would be better,' Alice suggested: 'or some sal-volatile.'

'I didn't say there was nothing better,' the King replied. 'I said there was nothing like it.' Which Alice did not venture to deny.”
― Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There

“Eyes and ears are two.
Lungs and kidneys, too.
I wonder then
why we're born with one
heart that skips a beat when hay is here,
and beats quickly when you are near.
One heart that cracks when you are far,
lie to me and leave a scar.
I wonder then
why we're born with one
heart that gets broken.
Was I supposed to find you then?
So your heart would make one
plus one is
two
for me and
two for you.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“Take this drink as a token of
my disrepute and spin that hay tonight and tomorrow it will be shining golden bright in whatever heavy delirious weave you wish to make.”
― Initially NO, Wolfing it down

“She once told him about the mysterious trampled-down places found in fields, which the peasants superstitiously called werewolves' nests. Coming across one of these sites, she fell to her knees and buried her face in the flattened yellow grasses, hoping to inhale the odor of a werewolf, a csordásfarkas. As if his scent was a charm. She smelled nothing but hay burned by the afternoon sun.”
― Jody Shields, The Fig Eater

“Take this drink as a token of my disrepute and spin that hay tonight and tomorrow it will be shining golden bright in whatever heavy delirious weave you wish to make.”
― Initially NO, Wolfing it down

“A hot dry day was perfect for cutting hay, but Sunday in those days was a true day of rest, and no hay would be taken from the fields, nor any labour done inside or outside of the house.”
― Arlene Stafford-Wilson, Lanark County Collection: Winding Our Way Down Memory Lane

“Around the time of the summer solstice, when the sun shines brightest on our little corner of the world, field after field of hay is cut, baled and carted away in a non-stop parade of wagons, up and down the rural routes.”
― Arlene Stafford-Wilson, Lanark County Comfort