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Farmers Quotes

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Farmers Quotes

“A farmer is a magician who produces money from the mud.”

“Growing up, I figured God must really love farmers. Just look at how often sowing and reaping are mentioned in the Bible! Over and over again the Good Book references barns overflowing, bringing in the harvest, and casting seed on fertile ground. It does take incredible faith to be in a profession where so much is out of your control.”

“As farmers we now have to reconcile the need to produce more food than any other generation in history with the necessity to do that sustainably and in ways that allow nature to survive alongside us. We need to bring the two clashing ideologies about farming together to make it as sustainable and as diverse as it can be.”

“And in those same years, the farmers in the developing world would come to be encouraged to use the patented descendants of the seeds their ancestors had once freely shared. And once they did that, once they bought the new seed and stopped saving seed as they had for centuries, they not only lost the old varieties but they were trapped in a system that indentured them to the seed companies. And if they resisted buying the new seeds, even if they resisted because they were not convinced about the safety of the new seeds, they were told they were causing starvation in their countries. And if they thought to demand royalties for the germplasm their ancestors once had given freely, they were called greedy.”

“Some of the most memorable, and least regrettable, nights of my own youth were spent in coon hunting with farmers. There is no denying that these activities contributed to the economy of farm households, but a further fact is that they were pleasures; they were wilderness pleasures, not greatly different from the pleasures pursued by conservationists and wilderness lovers. As I was always aware, my friends the coon hunters were not motivated just by the wish to tree coons and listen to hounds and listen to each other, all of which were sufficiently attractive; they were coon hunters also because they wanted to be afoot in the woods at night. Most of the farmers I have known, and certainly the most interesting ones, have had the capacity to ramble about outdoors for the mere happiness of it, alert to the doings of the creatures, amused by the sight of a fox catching grasshoppers, or by the puzzle of wild tracks in the snow.”

“We know people and their nature… pushed and pushed and pushed… until finally… push back… it will happen… but until then, we milk the cow as long as we can… you see we want to play both sides. Have the government develop partners in Russia, China, Africa, while entertaining the Americans before their empire crumbles and they run to the Arabs… even in the idealism of a multi-polar world, there is still plenty of money to be made along the way… is there not?”

“जूआ खेलने का सदियों पुराना सामाजिक मान्यता प्राप्त नाम है खेती। इसमें किसान प्रकृति पर दांव लगाता है। सफल हुआ तो रोटी का प्रबंध हो गया, हार जाए तो अगली फसल पर फिर से दांव खेलता है।”

“Agriculture, however, is not and never has been a single monolithic interest in our society. We have always known differences among farmers of different regions, different crops, and different incomes. The difference in the forms of political organization have been determined principally by the manner in which economic differences have been resolved. (pp. 15–16)”

“Tracing the history of herders-farmers clashes goes back as far as the early 90s. Sometimes it takes several decades to decode the meaning of something that has been with you for a long period. Even in the 200 Naira note, it was boldly drawn where cows are heading to eat farm produce. It was boldly embedded, but we are just realizing it today, maybe because we don't take note or don't care to notice.”

“I cleaned the shit off my pink high-tops and drove home, stopping for an espresso at the coffeehouse across from the college. Men and women were hunched over copies of Jean Paul Sartre and writing in their journals. Most wore the thin-rimmed tortoiseshell glasses favored by intellectuals. Their clothes were faded to a precisely fashionable degree; you can buy them that way from catalogs now, new clothes processed to look old. The intellectuals looked at me in my overalls the way such people inevitably look at farmers. I dumped a lot of sugar in my espresso and sipped it delicately at a corner table near the door. I looked at them the way farmers look at intellectuals.”

“ये सच है उनके दम से ज़िंदगी त्योहार लगती है कोई माने न माने रोज़ होली-तीज हैं वो लोग उन्हीं के दम से तो सारी ज़मीनें भी सुहागन हैं पकी फसलें छुपाए ख़ुद में ज़िंदा बीज हैं वो लोग”

“I’m serious,” Donovan grunts, throwing the crumpled ball at Nolan. “Even if they succeeded, they were fucked. Two teenage rich kids running away to do what? Become farmers? They had servants that did everything for them. They wouldn’t have lasted a week.” Kaleb sighs from the other side of Connor. “That’s not the point of the play. It’s a commentary on values and what you have to lose when you let petty things get in the way of what truly matters, your family and loved ones.”

“The houses were left vacant on the land and the land was vacant because of this. Only the tractor sheds of corrugated iron, silver and gleaming were alive, and they were alive with metal and gasoline and oil, discs of the plows shining. The tractors had lights shining, for there is no day and night for a tractor, and the discs turn the earth in the darkness and they glitter in the daylight. And when a horse stops work and goes into the barn, there is a life and vitality left. There is a breathing and a warmth, and the feet shift on the straw, and the jaws champ on the hay, and the ears and the eyes are alive. There is a warmth of life in the barn and the heat and smell of life, but when the motor of a tractor stops it is as dead as the ore it came from. The heat goes out of it like the living heat that leaves a corpse. Then the corrugated iron doors are closed and the tractor man drives home to town, perhaps twenty miles away, and he need not come back for weeks or months, for the tractor is dead. And this is easy and efficient. So easy, that the wonder goes out of work. So efficient, that the wonder goes out of land, the working of it, and with the wonder, the deep understanding and the relation. And in the tractor man the grows the contempt that comes only to a stranger who has little understanding and no relation, for nitrates are not the land, nor phosphates, and the length of fiber in the cotton is not the land. Carbon is not a man, nor salt, water, nor calcium. He is all these, but he is much more, much more. And the land is so much more than its analysis. The man who is more than his chemistry walking on the earth, turning his plow point for a stone, dropping his handles to slide over an outcropping, kneeling in the earth to eat his lunch, that man who is more than his elements knows the land that is more than it's analysis. But the machine man, driving a dead tractor on land he does not know and love understands only chemistry, and he is contemptuous of the land and of himself. When the corrugated iron doors are shut he goes home, and his home is not the land.”

“Bush men are understated in just about every way—their words, their affection, their need for things. They don’t need much of anything. They’re understated except when it comes to hard work and duty. Their resilience and determination to get out into the paddocks every day, to an extent, keeps the cemetery at bay. Being outside, in the elements, adds substantial weight to their life force.”

“Who can live without eating? A farmer is a great hero because he fights for our existence! If anyone deserves a medal of existence in a country, that person should be a farmer!”

“If the farmer is rich, then so is the nation.”

“To a farmer dirt is not a waste, it is wealth.”

“Jew storekeepers have already learned the advantage to be gained from this [unlimited credit]: they lead on the farmer into irretrievable indebtedness, and keep him ever after as their bondslave hopelessly grinding in the mill.”