Meadow del Sol.

“Enough,” the horned man says. “I am Agosto, Faun King of the Meadow del Sol, and these are my kin. We live here safely…

— Zoraida Córdova

“The first place that I can well remember, was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees…

— Anna Sewell

Nevertheless there are certain peaks, canons, and clear meadow spaces which are above all compassing of words, and have a certain fame as of…

— Anonymous

The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned…

— Anna Sewell

“It was as easy as breathing to go and have tea near the place where Jane Austen had so wittily scribbled and so painfully…

— Christopher Hitchens

Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

“All the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided from them now by…

— William Faulkner

It’s the place of the story, beginning here, in the meadow of late summer flowers, thriving before the Atlantic storms drive wet and winter…

— Gregory Maguire

“Every Saturday, heat or cold, rain or shine, Milly would see Avery running up their road, her long blond ponytail swishing in time with…

— Rebecca Rasmussen

“In her blue dress, she's just a bit of that sky, just a blank bit fallen into the meadow.”

— Mary Szybist

“I know I can't own a hilltop, a meadow, or a mountainside. But keeping it a secret somehow makes it mine.”

— Joyce Rachelle

“Aline found herself walking quickly, almost running, to her favorite place by the river, where a wildflower meadow sloped down to tall grasses alive…

— Lisa Kleypas

“The respectable folks-- Where dwell they? They whisper in the oaks, And they sigh in the hay; Summer and winter, night and day, Out…

— Henry David Thoreau

“I look up at the painting. It's not even that interesting. Definitely doesn't grab me and shake my brain around like the meadow scene…

— Stefan Bachmann

“At dawn, in the great meadow, a solitude As easy as white paint comes down from the mountains To daydream, bending the grass. I…

— Charles Wright