Pond Quotes

“THE FOUR HEAVENLY FOUNTAINS


Laugh, I tell you
And you will turn back
The hands of time.

Smile, I tell you
And you will reflect
The face of the divine.

Sing, I tell you
And all the angels will sing with you!

Cry, I tell you
And the reflections found in your pool of tears -
Will remind you of the lessons of today and yesterday
To guide you through the fears of tomorrow.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“Remain in the world, act in the world, do whatsoever is needful, and yet remain transcendental, aloof, detached, a lotus flower in the pond.”
― Osho, The secret of secrets

“I dream that one day I would be a published writer and people would read my books - if not, I would be living in the mountains in a small hut, near a pond where swans swim, writing a diary for myself.”
― Srinidhi.R

“The water in the pond inside my heart doesn't shine anymore. It has turned dark. Every ghost from my mind breaks all the barriers and take a dip there, making it darker. and every time it happens, my soul in the pond cries with pain.”
― Akshay Vasu

“To me she looked like a lily, an innocence floating in the pond!”
― Avijeet Das

“An old silent pond...
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again.”
― Matsuo Bashō

“The pond is clear, but it isn't this beyond the sea blue and has never been. The sky is blue, but it isn't this strikingly bright and vivid nor has it ever been. But together, and in each other's company, they are more beautiful than they could ever have been alone...”
― Anoma Natasha Paleebut

“Life is like a pond, and every decision and act we commit, good or bad, is a pebble flung into it. The ripples spread in widening circles.”
― Francine Rivers, An Echo in the Darkness

“Some fish get caught for biting and some fish just get caught for being in the wrong part of the pond...I'm no diviner, but having been in the wrong part of the pond most of my life, I can usually tell which fish bite and which fish don't. I suspect you may have found yourself in the wrong part of the pond a time or two.”
― Clare Vanderpool

“When you stand on the banks
of Penn Swamp Pond in August,
those injuries can save your life
and keep you picking till the bush is bare.”
― Charles Rafferty, Where the Glories of April Lead

“I prefer lakes, streams, and ponds to the sea. My people left the oceans for a reason and have since preferred their salt from shakers rather than brine.”
― Thomm Quackenbush, Holidays with Bigfoot

“A pond is just a giant bowl of Rain Soup. BearPaw Duck Farm has one that's one quarter full, or three quarters empty, depending on if you are a realist or a realist. I myself am a realist, which is like a pessimist's pessimist.”
― Jarod Kintz, BearPaw Duck And Meme Farm presents: Two Ducks Brawling Is A Pre-Pillow Fight

“A cloud is a floating pond, and since ducks are birds that can both fly and swim, I’d love to watch them splash around in the air. I’ve only seen it one time, and unfortunately I was asleep when it happened.”
― Jarod Kintz, Ducks are the stars of the karaoke bird world

“Pools are duck ponds for people. I swim like a mallard in flight.”
― Jarod Kintz, Music is fluid, and my saxophone overflows when my ducks slosh in the sounds I make in elevators.

“Everybody knows deep down that life is as much about the things that do not happen as the things that do and that's not something that ought to be glossed over or denied because without frustration there would hardly be any need to daydream. And daydreams return me to my original sense of things and I luxuriate in these fervid primary visions until I am entirely my unalloyed self again. So even though it sometimes feels as if one could just about die from disappointment I must concede that in fact in a rather perverse way it is precisely those things that I did not get that are keeping me alive.”
― Claire Louise-Bennett

“After school both girls skated over the pond. What a beautiful sight. They said they could see right to the bottom of the lake through the ice and it's like another world down there.”
― Darlene M. Reierson, North Country Homesteader

“As Mrs. Turner took what would be her last walk around the vegetable garden, Smarty, the ginger tabby, materialized to sit beside the flowerpot man, a position that afforded him a bird's-eye view of the petit fishpond. There was a larger, more formal water feature on the western side of the house, a rectangular pool with a leafy canopy above it and marble tiles around the rim, well-fed goldfish gleaming beneath glistening lily pads, but this little pond was far more cheerful: small and shallow, with fallen petals floating on its surface. The cat's focus was absolute as he watched for flickers of rose gold in the water, paw at the ready.”
― Kate Morton, Homecoming

“I picked up a little stone and threw it into the pond. As the ripples faded, so did my smiles. I knew I could do nothing to bring those ripples back.”
― Bhuwan Thapaliya

“My pond life with hydra is over; now I’m into the ocean world of poetry to dive deeper..”
― Munia Khan

“Science can't prove everything! Say, a scientist saw a fish splashing in the pond. On the next day he shared it with someone. But, the listener wanted proof. How would the scientist prove that he was speaking the truth?”
― Md. Ziaul Haque

“And so I would just stand there, shaking perforce on my small doweling perch,feeling helpless and culpable and vicious for reasons I could not really examine nor wholly accept.”
― Claire-Louise Bennett

“The dome of coolness above the pond throbs with croaking. Dragonflies and damselflies pierce the slanting light that burnishes the surface of the water with fire. At the edges frogs wait to spring.”
― Grace Dane Mazur, The Garden Party: A Novel

“Seen from above, the canopy of oak and make and pine is pierced by the pond, which looks back at you like some green eye, knowing and ancient. The air above the pond dives into clefts of coolness, then rises up at the warmth of the margins. Down the path, filigrees of blackflies and mosquitos dance in the heat waves given off by men and women and their domestic fires. Joyous bats dart about.”
― Grace Dane Mazur, The Garden Party: A Novel

“Well, I would leave the laundry out; it added a certain atmosphere of neglect, as did the lily pad pond overtaken by ivy, the roses choked with weeds. A few hydrangea blossoms hung brown and dry on the shrubs, rattling sadly in the breeze. It was well hidden, the splendor of what had been, and that was fine with me. I could still remember Gran's garden out back the way it used to be- goldfish in the pond; hydrangea blooms heavy and blue, the color of the sky; sunflowers bent down upon themselves.”
― Mindy Friddle, The Garden Angel

“Then do that again, over and over, until I'm pleased.”
― George Saunders, A Swim in a Pond in the Rain: In Which Four Russians Give a Master Class on Writing, Reading, and Life

“A wind will bring a freshness to an otherwise stagnant pond.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“I have shed tears into that flow when I thought that motherhood would end. But the pond has shown me that being a good mother doesn’t end with creating a home where just my children can flourish. A good mother grows into a richly eutrophic old woman, knowing that her work doesn’t end until she creates a home where all life’s beings can flourish.”
― Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants

“It was an irony---and perhaps, even, a foreshadowing---that she had been struck especially by the majesty of the house that long-ago day. It had looked to ten-year-old Jess like something from a fairy tale, standing tall with its gleaming weatherboards and elaborate tangle of wisteria branches. The longest boughs of the tallest trees arched together to form a proscenium around the house at center stage, the sweep of green leaves fell away on all sides, and the round pond was just visible on the western slope, with its glossy lily pads and graceful stone statue. The effect was of a place set apart from the rest of the big wide world.”
― Kate Morton, Homecoming

“From somewhere in the garden came the sound of a magpie singing, and a thousand days of childhood arrived with it. Jess glanced to her right and spotted the black-and-white bird perched atop the statue in the middle of the pond. There were magpies in England, too--- Jess had seen them often on the Heath--- but although they shared a name, they were different from their antipodean cousins: smaller, neater, prettier, and without the eerily sublime song. This magpie was looking directly at her. Jess tilted her head, watching the bird as he watched her. Suddenly, he spread his wings and flew away.
She crossed the turning circle toward the lawn. The grass was still damp with dew, even though the sun was rising fast, and cool shadows stretched toward the harbor. Jess reached the edge of the pond and followed the line of its curved rim until the elegant stone lady was directly before her, kneeling as she always had, arms folded above her head, face bowed to gaze at the goldfish and lilies.”
― Kate Morton, Homecoming

“We are not silt at the bottom of a river. We are the water that is flowing. There is no way they can confine us.”
― Bhuwan Thapaliya