Grass Always Looks Greener Quotes

And it certainly did seem a little provoking ('almost as if it happened on purpose,' she thought) that, though she managed to pick plenty of beautiful rushes as the boat glided by, there was always a more lovely one that she couldn't reach. "The prettiest are always further!" she said at last, with a sigh at the obstinacy of the rushes in growing so far off.

Always he's looking for something, he's chasing it. Always the neighbour's grass is greener, somewhere else, over the next hill." Her smile was slight. "My grass is green enough.

When I was a piglet, the grass was much greener, Always looked as if it had just come from the cleaner, And life was much gayer, in so many ways. Ah, those were the days! Now I’m old, and my joints are increasingly creaky; My hearing is poor, and my memory’s leaky; And I weep as I put down these sad little rhymes. Ah, those were the times! In my youth, I was always prepared for a frolic; I never had pains, rheumatism or colic; I never had aches: head, stomach or tooth. Ah, the days of my youth! “Good land, Freddy, you sound as if you were about ninety years old,” Mrs. Wiggins said with a laugh.

Let me tell you the story of Alice in Wonderland,” said John. “Alice sees this very unusual rabbit go down a hole, and she jumps in with two feet. She has no idea what this journey is going to be and Wonderland isn’t really all that great a place—there’re scary things, challenging things, and things that are also interesting and fascinating. It’s an adventure, and Alice doesn’t know what’s in store for her, but she jumps in anyway. Alice doesn’t hesitate or think maybe a better rabbit will come along tomorrow. She feels in her heart that she’s embarking on a profound journey and that, despite the difficulties, it’s still magical and amazing. Alice doesn’t look back and doesn’t question the adventure she’s chosen. That’s commitment. You two never did that. You have the trappings of commitment and loyalty, but you go to a party and think someone else can meet your needs better. You don’t like each other’s behavior and think that means they’re not the one for you. When you negotiate with each other, it’s always from a point of self-interest, not mutual benefit. You haven’t built trust, or commitment, or a foundation of loyalty to each other because you’re not really in this relationship. That’s why no therapist can help you. You’re both still looking over your shoulder thinking the grass would be greener if you had followed some other rabbit down some other rabbit hole, into some different wonderland.

The first time I heard the phrase 'holy envy' I knew it was an improvement over the plain old envy I felt while studying other faiths. When the Jewish Sabbath came up in class, I wanted it. Why did Christians ever let it go? When we watched a film of the God-intoxicated Sufis spinning, I wanted that too. The best my tradition could offer me during worship was kneeling to pray and standing to sing. My spiritual covetousness extended to the inclusiveness of Hinduism, the nonviolence of Buddhism, the prayer life of Islam, and the sacred debate of Judaism. Of course this list displays all the symptoms of my condition. It is simplistic, idealistic, overgeneralized, and full of my own projections. It tells you as much about what I find wanting in my own tradition as it does about what I find desirable in another. This gets to the heart of the problem: with plain old envy, my own tradition always comes up wanting. The grass is always greener in the tradition next door. I know my Christian pasture so well. I know where the briars are along with the piles of manure. I also know where the springs of living water are, but when I look over the fence at the neighbor's spread, it looks so flawless, so unblemished and perfectly tended, at least from where I stand. From a distance it is easy to forget that every pasture has its turds and stickers along with its deep wells and beds of clover. So when I look longingly at my neighbor's faith, am I really looking for greener pastures, or am I simply trying to make peace with the realities of my own?

If dragons were common, and you could look at one in the zoo — but zebras were a rare legendary creature that had finally been decided to be mythical — then there's a certain sort of person who would ignore dragons, who would never bother to look at dragons, and chase after rumors of zebras. The grass is always greener on the other side of reality. Which is rather setting ourselves up for eternal disappointment, eh? If we cannot take joy in the merely real, our lives shall be empty indeed.