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“What are men to rocks and mountains?”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men to rocks and mountains?”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“Here are the things girls die of: hunger, disease, accidents, childbirth, and violence. It takes more than heartache to kill a girl. Girls are tough as rocks.”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“It's not an old book, or a treasure map. Nope. Staring up at me was a pile of rocks.”
― Wendy Mass, Jeremy Fink and the Meaning of Life

“We may be floating on Tao, but there is nothing wrong with steering. If Tao is like a river, it is certainly good to know where the rocks are.”
― Deng Ming-Dao, Everyday Tao: Living with Balance and Harmony

“Do not feel sad for your tears as rocks never regret the waterfalls”
― Munia Khan

“I'm allergic to rocks hitting me in the face.”
― Mike Rowe

“And there were other rocks that were like animals, creeping, horrible animals, putting out their tongues, and others were like words I could not say, and others like dead people lying on the grass. I went on among them, though they frightened me, and my heart was full of wicked song they put into it; and I wanted to make faces and twist myself about the way they did, and I went on and on a long way till at last I liked the rocks and they didn’t frighten me any more”
― Arthur Machen

“Clarice scrawled, 'A question from when I was a little girl that I can answer only now: are rocks made, or are they born? Answer: rocks are.”
― Benjamin Moser, Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector

“I swear there are about a million rocks underneath me," [Dylan] said grouchily.
Think of it as therapeutic. Like a shiatsu massage." (Sadie)
You obviously have a much better imagination than me," he said.”
― Sarah Mayberry, Take on Me

“The nose can’t help catchinâ€� what the ears get sick with. Yessir, rock bands just sweat evil. Evil’s been around for a long time, ever since rocks started getting real hot and making a lot of noise as they exploded out oâ€� the ground and evil spirits wisped out of hell. If a band ever uses a fog machine, hold your breath so you don’t become possessed by one.”
― M.C. Humphreys

“I noticed chartreuse lichen scabbing the rocks, the lick and suck of tide against sea-smoothed stones, how every single one of the shells in the bay was different; white limpet shells and ear-shaped mussel shells; kelp fronds, the ones like bronze ribbons, and cream ones like bandages, their stems like bone joints; and, of course, the ocean, that perpetual shapeshifter: one day a disc of hammered gold, the next wild and rearing, like a thousand white horses. I noticed how the ocean had moods, just like a person.”
― C J Cooke

“When your laughter breaks through the rocks, somewhere, somehow, a bud begins to bloom.....”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Carnal, rocks remember when they were mountains.'
They stared at the rocks in the garden.
'And what do mountains remember?'
'When they were ocean floors.'
Big Angel, Zen master.”
― Luis Alberto Urrea, The House of Broken Angels

“Like Jean, I always like to put my hand to stone, except that I am more of a collector than a maker. Wherever I go, pebbles seem to find their way into my pockets and bags. When autumn comes, I discover the long-forgotten relics of last year's walks in my coats, each one of them a memento of a place, a time, a thought process. They scatter every surface in my house, too, sometimes requiring a grand clear out, when I gather them all up and tip them into the garden. Still, they find their way back in. I could almost believe that they reproduce.

I can think of no greater pleasure than a stone in the hand, the right one of just the right size. Stones have a pure kind of weight to them, like small concentrations of gravity. They seem to always crave contact with the earth, pulling down towards the soil that matches their serene chill. I reach for one now as I write this, and measure it against my palm. There is a definite coupling between the two of us, a communication of density, a heat exchange. For a moment, I am anchored again.”
― Katherine May, Enchantment: Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age

“It was the custom, rigidly adhered to," Luke said, turning the brandy in his glass, "for the public executioner, before a quartering, to outline his knife strokes in chalk upon the belly of his victim--for fear of a slip, you understand."

I would like to hit her with a stick, Eleanor thought, looking down on Theodora's head beside her chair; I would like to batter her with rocks.

"An exquisite refinement, exquisite. Because of course the chalk strokes would have been almost unbearable, excruciating, if the victim were ticklish."

I hate her, Eleanor thought, she sickens me; she is all washed and clean and wearing my red sweater.

"When the death was hanging by chains, however, the executioner..."

"Nell?" Theodora looked up at her and smiled. "I really am sorry, you know," she said.

I would like to watch her dying, Eleanor thought, and smiled back and said, "Don't be silly.”
― Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

“as her marriage was on the rocks and thin ice simultaneously, which surprisingly the latter is not verbiage for alcohol lingo, unlike the former, which is.”
― J.S. Mason, A Dragon, A Pig, and a Rabbi Walk into a Bar...and other Rambunctious Bites

“Thick, fragrant loam behind the house, where Astraia and I once dug with our bare hands to plant stolen rose cuttings. Thin gray dust on the summer wind, blown into my mouth to grit against my teeth. Father's rock collection: malachite, rhodonite, and the slab of simple limestone inlaid with the skeleton of a curious fanged bird with claws on its wings.”
― Rosamund Hodge, Cruel Beauty

“Sometimes the emotion that shakes you can be the very emotion that makes you as you enter the places you never even thought had existed and from the tremendous trembling, the rocks roll but you emerge.......”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“As you take the dense slog, darkness becomes a home to the dawn, for there is wisdom found beneath the rocks.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Man is as tough as a rock but delicate as a flower.”
― Shree Shambav, Twenty + One - 21 Short Stories

“Speak to me,
oh rocks
and streams,

Tell me tales
of mountains
tall...

Oh boulders
cleft and
thunder cleaved,

Beneath the
veil of
waterfalls...”
― M P Ceran

“I feel my attention settling for the first time in a long while, in this place that is infinite with detail, with layers and layers of life arrayed before my eyes. It occurs to me that I am resting. It is not the same as doing nothing. Resting like this is something active, chosen, alert, something rare and precious.

The rocks are a little gauche, but they are sympathetic. They crowd attentively around me, heads cocked to listen. There's a gentleness to this place, a sense of peace. I brought nothing but doubt and cynicism and faithlessness here, but I found something that I didn't expect. The stones gave out grace in return for my doubt.”
― Katherine May, Enchantment: Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age

“Find some grass, or some wetlands, a pond, a lake, a stream, etc. Move some rocks, some branches, some vines, some leaves. It’s easier to spot [frogs] when they hop, otherwise they just blend into their habitat, so a little disturbance goes a long way.”
― Aesop Rock

“Even the thick dark night comes with light ..bringing you to reconciliation, moving you and transforming you on the road. It then becomes a journey through the bitter voices to reclaim the voice of your soul. Facing the rocks, you become the sage, the eternal seeker.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Microplastics and nano-plastics are found everywhere in us and the environment. Now microplastics have been found in sediments which have not seen human habitation for hundreds of years. So how did they get there?
If both microplastics and nano-plastics can invade all of our bodily systems through pores and filters within the body, the same can be said for the natural filtering systems of different rock layers.
No difference from us except we think rock is rock is less able to do it because it's denser. The trouble is that rain is so contaminated with these plastics that they are carried through the rain into the ground water and the subsequently through the different rock layers.
So, now we have contaminated groundwater, not only from chemicals, but also plastics as well. And as you all know, we drink 'fresh' ground water because it's so natural.
Well, maybe not so natural now.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“She day-dreams just as I do. She is addicted to her solitude just as I am. She loves watching the rain-drops fall slowly on to the green leaves of an old tree just as I do. She loves drifting in time and time travel just as I do. She loves looking at the waves dashing against the rocks just as I do.”
― Avijeet Das

“The flat became more rolling, and the rolling became

hills, and the hills became the Hoggar, its odd volcanic peaks and spires struggling through the almost irides- cent violet haze that seemed to emanate from them. They had never seen such a place, and rode enraptured. The camels stepped tenderly through the rocks, which had changed from smooth gravel to rough cobbles to razor-sharp stones, at first spaced well apart but then closer and hard to avoid. It slowed their progress, and at times the caravan stretched out over two kilometers, a great undulating jumble of humps and baskets and bags and winding through the men, craggy passages and long wadis. The camels groaned as if mortally wounded when they cut their feet, their cries returning in haunted echoes from the rock walls. They shifted themselves in exaggerated motions to favor their feet, sometimes losing their loads altogether or having them slip out of place until their tenders had to stop and ad- just them. In the worst places the men walked, leading their mounts by hand.”
― David Ball, Empires of Sand by David Ball

“For my breakfast in the morning, I always make sure to have a large bowl of rocks and milk. That's why they call me "the Rock.”
― Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson

“The landscape was there, and more than ever he felt he could not reach it. The rocks and the sky were everywhere, ready to absolve him, but as always he carried the obstacle within him. He would have said that as he looked at them, the rocks and the sky ceased being themselves, that in the act of passing into his consciousness, they became impure. It was slight consolation to be able to say to himself: "I am stronger than they.”
― Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky