I do not know what 'moss' stands for in the proverb , but…

This, at last, was where things were as they ought to be. Everything was in its place -- the tree, the earth underneath, the…

— Jean Liedloff

After a few mouthfuls of moon-flavored air, even the stubbornly drowsy can find themselves wide-eyed.. All the normal noises of life were gone, leaving…

— N.D. Wilson

“At this point trillions of pictures have been taken of Kate Moss in an effort to capture her beauty, style and essence. Yet our…

— Alexa Chung

I will stay in prison till the moss grows on my eye lids rather than disobey God.

— John Bunyan

I have a confession to make. In the beginning, I did not understand the Kate Moss phenomenon.

— Hamish Bowles

Whether I sound like Sammy or not is purely coincidence. You have got to hand it to him, he sings his ass off. There…

— Gary Cherone

Tightly held by rocks Through winter, the ice today Begins to come undone: A way-seeker also is the water, Melting, murmuring from the moss.

— Saigyō

And beyond the timeless meadows and emerald pastures, the rabbit holes and moss-covered oak and rowan trees and the "slippy sloppy" houses of frogs,…

— Susan Branch

“I look round for trees or walls that might be able to give me an indication of north from the growth patterns of moss,”

— Vybarr Cregan-Reid

If I were alive in Rubens's time, I'd be celebrated as a model. Kate Moss would be used as a paint brush.

— Dawn French

Savannah is amazing with the town squares and the hanging moss and the French Colonial houses. It's brutally romantic.

— David Morrissey

I got a burlap sack, put a brick in the middle, and filled it with rags, corncobs, some Spanish moss, and sand. I hung…

— Joe Frazier

'Mad Men' is a hard act to follow. Unless you're called Elisabeth Moss, stuff like this only comes along once in your career.

— Jared Harris

It was to Hofmeister, working as a young man, an amateur and enthusiast, in the early morning hours of summer months, before business, at…

— Arthur Harry Church

there is moss on the walls and the stain of thought and failure and waiting

— Charles Bukowski