A Quote by Bertolt Brecht

What a miserable thing life is: you're living in clover, only the clover isn't good enough. — © Bertolt Brecht
What a miserable thing life is: you're living in clover, only the clover isn't good enough.
What a miserable thing life is: you're in clover; only the clover isn't good enough.
[Clover] secretly hitched a ride with a nice German couple and their new baby...Clover appeared to the baby, so as to be a delightful, soothing surprise. Well, the child did like Clover. In fact, she held him and cooed. When the parents turned around to look at her and saw their child holding a furry, living creature, they needlessly panicked.
What's that darkness over there?" Leven asked. "It's not good." Clover said. "Then what is it?" 'Bad," Clover suggested, sounding as though he wasn't all that impressed with Leven's level of knowledge. "I understand opposites," Leven said, frustrated.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
A good friend is like a four-leaf clover; hard to find and lucky to have.
The sweetness of life lies in usefulness, like honey deep in the heart of a clover bloom.
Believing there's no such thing as luck is very unlucky. Like, the worst. Beyond stealing someone's lucky four-leaf clover.
Pop just didn't have enough substance for me. All this nyah-nyah-nyah, you know, 'Paper Tiger' and 'Hold the Ladder, James' and 'Crimson and Clover.' That wasn't music!
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, -
I'm feeling lucky like a four-leaf clover
If a man who can’t count finds a four leaf clover, is he lucky?
I was in a vintage pub rock band called Clover in the 1970s.
I think of basset hounds whenever I turn on my computer because I have photos of them. And if I'm lucky, and I see one on the street, I know it's going to be a good day. They really are like a four-leaf clover.
You were clearly not doing your part in the clover search, perv.
If a man who cannot count finds a four-leaf clover, is he entitled to happiness?
What airs outblown from ferny dells And clover-bloom and sweet brier smells.
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