Pastoral Life Quotes

Being a pastor's kid comes with a lot of pressure and scrutiny. A lot of my dad's sermons were about respect. It was a beautiful way to be taught about love and two people being equal.

I spent the first 18 years of my life in the pastoral town of Vernal, Utah, in the shadows of the Book Cliffs and the Uinta Mountains.

Next to the pastoral came the agricultural life. When you add to that the manufacturing phase of development, society begins to fill out, and needs but wings to fly, and commerce is its wings.

The forties are very cool and very pastoral. The fifties look like they're pastoral, and then you get a bit more turbulence.

My life often feels like a whirling dervish of kids, writing, speaking, and pastoral ministry.

A writer once said to me, If you ever go to America, go either to the East Coast or the West Coast: The rest is a desert full of bigots. That's what I think I'd like . . . a version of pastoral.

A nation which lives a pastoral and innocent life never decorates the shepherd's staff or the plough-handle; but races who live by depredation and slaughter nearly always bestow exquisite ornaments on the quiver, the helmet, and the spear.

I feed horses and goats and sheep all day and, once in a while, come and talk about movies.

And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Cows are my passion. What I have ever sighed for has been to retreat to a Swiss farm, and live entirely surrounded by cows - and china.

Oh Senor" said the niece. "Your grace should send them to be burned (books), just like all the rest, because it's very likely that my dear uncle, having been cured of the chivalric disease, will read these and want to become a shepherd and wander through the woods and meadows singing and playing and, what would be even worse, become a poet, and that, they say, is an incurable and contagious disease.

I go about looking at horses and cattle. They eat grass, make love, work when they have to, bear their young. I am sick with envy of them.

Opposition is an inevitable reality of pastoral life.

I am always a beginner. I only try to include different parts of life; the pastoral, the tragic, et cetera.

Deep down I have this atavistic feeling that really I should be in the country.

I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms, For him that gazes or for him that farms.

My first love was, and remains, manual labor; sowing and harvesting, the pastures, the flock, and the cattle.

The patient and active virtues of a soldier are insensibly nursed in the habits and discipline of a pastoral life.

The modern age has been characterized by a Promethean spirit, a restless energy that preys on speed records and shortcuts, unmindful of the past, uncaring of the future, existing only for the moment and the quick fix. The earthly rhythms that characterize a more pastoral way of life have been shunted aside to make room for the fast track of an urbanized existence. Lost in a sea of perpetual technological transition, modern man and woman find themselves increasingly alienated from the ecological choreography of the planet.