A Quote by Chuck Berry

I'm a millionaire, but I cut the grass. And each time I cut it, it's my grass. And that is satisfying. — © Chuck Berry
I'm a millionaire, but I cut the grass. And each time I cut it, it's my grass. And that is satisfying.
My first job was cutting grass. In Miami, this grass grows everywhere. You just get the lawn mower out, walk down the neighborhood, cut grass.
Because of Iowa, I like being in a different state that doesn't even have grass and think that I smell fresh-cut grass. It brings me home.
If I can't serve on grass, I can maybe help cut the grass, paint the lines and serve some strawberries.
I though about what death is, what a loss is. A sharp pain that lessens with time, but can never quite heal over. A scar. The idea occurred to me there on the site. Take a knife and cut open the earth, and with time the grass would heal it. As if you cut open the rock and polished it.
Some people like to keep their grass cut really short, so they can see the intruders coming. Keep those kill zones open. I say let the grass grow tall so they don't know there's a house behind it. Some call it lazy, I say it's thinking.
That smell of freshly cut grass makes me think of Friday night football in high school. The smell of popcorn and cigar smoke reminds me of the stadium. The cutting of the grass reminds me of the August practice.
Make sure you cut the grass low so the snakes show
I go out and walk around the yard. Sometimes I'll cut grass.
In the plains the grass grows tall, since there is no one to cut it. There is no one to water it either.
Grass is the forgiveness of nature-her constant benediction. Fields trampled with battle, saturated with blood, torn with the ruts of cannon, grow green again with grass and carnage is forgotten. Streets abandoned by traffic become grass-grown, like rural lanes and are obliterated. Forests decay, harvests perish, flowers vanish, but grass is immortal.
Ultraconservatism is, to me, so illogical. Everywhere you go, conservatives want to cut, cut, cut, cut - cut money for powerless people. So, that's the biggest problem I have with them.
I love the smell of freshly cut grass. It takes me back to summers in Maine.
A cow out on grass is just an incredible thing to behold... Cows and other ruminants can do things we just can't do. They have the most highly evolved digestive organ on the planet, called the rumen. And the rumen can digest grass. It takes grass, cellulose in grass, and turns it into protein, very nutritious protein. We can't do that.
I have four sons whom I love dearly. Suppose our lawn needed to be cut. I could say, "Boys, can you see the need? The grass is high. It's above my knees. Soon I will not be able to get to the garage. Don't you see the desperate need?" But in the final analysis, they get out the mower because their father says, "Mow the grass!" World evangelization is an imperative because Jesus said so.
My game takes time to adapt to grass; grass is a little bit different.
The miracle of light pours over the green and brown expanse of saw grass and of water, shining and slowly moving, the grass and water that is the meaning and the central fact of the Everglades. It is a river of grass.
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