Swim out of your little pond.
Newfoundland dogs are good to save children from drowning, but you must have a pond of water handy and a child, or else there will be no profit in boarding a Newfoundland.
The rose petal floats on water. The kingfisher flashes above the pond. Life and beauty swirl in the midst of death.
I wrote a song at age five about algae on the pond by our house, then the next 'real' song was in fifth grade about an unrequited crush.
You never knew about people, like you never knew how deep a pond was because all you saw was the top.
For hours, in fall days, I watched the ducks cunningly tack and veer and hold the middle of the pond, far from the sportsman;. . . but what beside safety they got by sailing in the middle of Walden I do not know, unless they love its water for the same reason that I do.
Music is an ocean, but the repertory is hardly even a lake; it is a pond.
Every morning I walk like this around the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart ever close, I am as good as dead.
I prefer being a small fish in a big pond.
We are told that the trouble with modern man is that he has been trying to detach himself from nature. . . In this scenario, Man comes on as a stupendous lethal force, and the Earth is pictured as something delicate, like rising bubbles at the surface of a country pond, or flights of fragile birds.
I started reading contemporary fiction in college or right after college. It wasn't as if I was steeped in experimental minimalism when I was twelve or something. I was reading The Witch of Blackbird Pond.
Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond; But is there anything Beyond?
A society should never become like a pond with stagnant water, without movement. That's the most important thing.
Like a duck on the pond. On the surface everything looks calm, but beneath the water those little feet are churning a mile a minute.
Love, we are a small pond.
Memory warps time, as it does the sights and sounds and smells of reality; for what shapes it is emotion, which can twist what seems clear, just as the surface of a pond seems to bend the stick thrust into the water.
One may decide that the nipple most nearly resembles a newly ripened raspberry (never, be it noted, the plonk of water on a pond at the commencement of a drizzle, a simple bladder nozzle built on the suction principal gum bubble, mole, or birth ward, bumpy metal button, or the painful red eruption of a swelling), but does one care to see his breakfast fruit as a sweetened milky bowl of snipped nips? no.
Even those who venture to dip a toe in the pond of risk never allow themselves to get used to the water.
Like a stone thrown into a pond, a good deed can create ripples that extend far beyond the initial splash.
Old pond, frog jumps in - plop.