Over the Garden Wall Funny Faces

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In the garden of our firm, when I was three. My brothers and I had a jumping wall. I remember information technology equally enormously loftier, simply it was probably only most a foot and a half. — Juliet Stevenson

History
Even Eve, the but soul in all of fourth dimension
to never take to wait for love,
must accept leaned some sleepless nights
solitary against the garden wall
and wailed, cold, stupefied, and wild
and wished to trade-in all of Eden
to have merely been a kid.
In fact, I gather that is why she leapt and fell from grace,
that she might have a story of herself to tell
in some other place. — Jennifer Michael Hecht

In the warmer months of the yr one or other of those nocturnal insects quite ofttimes strays indoors from the small garden backside my house. When I go up early on in the morning, I observe them clinging to the wall, motionless. I believe, said Austerlitz, they know they have lost their way, since if yous practise non put them out again carefully they will stay where they are, never moving, until the last breath is out of their bodies, and indeed they will remain in the place where they came to grief even later expiry, held fast by the tiny claws that stiffened in their last agony, until a draft of air detaches them and blows them into a dusty corner. Sometimes, seeing one of these moths that have met their end in my house, I wonder what kind of fear and hurting they feel while they are lost. — W.G. Sebald

When they have opened a gap in the ... wall of separation between the Garden of the Church and the wildernes of the world, God hath always ... fabricated his Garden a Wildernesse. — Roger Williams

Everyone must get out something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A kid or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way and so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower y'all planted, you're there. — Ray Bradbury

Sugar had grown upwards in Charleston, South Carolina: perhaps the well-nigh luscious of the earth's garden cities. Backside every wrought-iron gate or exposed-brick wall in the picturesque peninsula blooming between the Ashley and Cooper Rivers lay a sweetness-scented treasure trove of camellias, roses, gardenias, magnolias, tea olives, azaleas and jasmine, everywhere, jasmine.
With its lush greenery, opulent vines, sumptuous hedgerows and processed-colored window boxes, it was no wonder the city's native sons and daughters believed it to be the most beautiful place on earth.
In her first years of exile Sugar had tried to cultivate a reminder of the luxuriant garden delights she had left behind, struggling in sometimes hostile elements to railroad train reluctant honeysuckle and sulky sweetness spud vines or nurture creeping jenny and autumn stonecrop. — Sarah-Kate Lynch

I plant rosemary all over the garden, so pleasant is it to know that at every few steps 1 may describe the kindly branchlets through one'due south hand, and have the enjoyment of their incomparable incense; and I grow it against walls, so that the sun may draw out its inexhaustible sweetness to greet me as I pass. — Gertrude Jekyll

If the art of gardening is at concluding to turn back from her extravagances and rest with her other sisters, it is, above everything, necessary to have clearly before you what you crave ... It is certainly tasteless and inconsistent to want to encompass the world with a garden-wall, but very practicable and reasonable to make a garden ... into a characteristic whole to the center, eye, and nderstanding alike. — Friedrich Schiller

It'south over the garden wall and we're going to see the Wizard, come what may and hell to pay.
-Elphaba — Gregory Maguire

Successful writers say you should never work from a desk with a view, and the view I accept from this one is a huge distraction. There'south a garden bursting with fresh vegetation, and merely beyond the high wall at the stop of information technology, I tin can see the sign of the local pub across the road. Distractions, eh? I'yard so easily led. — Matt Roper

Imagination. Equally he pulled into the driveway of number iv, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was certain it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. Information technology just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat beliefs? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying — J.K. Rowling

On the warm rock walls, climbing roses were but coming into bloom and groovy twisted branches of honeysuckle and clematis wrestled each other equally they tumbled up and over the meridian of the wall. Against another wall were white apple tree blossoms on branches cut into sharp crucifixes and forced to lie flat against the rock. Below, the huge frilled lips of giant tulips in shades of white and cream nodded in their beds. They were almost finished now, spread open also far, splayed, exposing obscene black centers. I've never had my own garden simply I of a sudden recognized something in the tangle of this 1 that wasn't beauty. Passion, possibly. And something else. Rage. — Million Rosoff

She got out and shut the door without looking back, picking her way through the snowfall to the black wooden door in the college wall. At to the lowest degree she hadn't told him non to follow. He watched equally she carefully brushed the snow off the latch with her rolled umbrella before touching information technology with her suede gloves. She left the door one-half open behind her. He followed. When he reached the door he saw she had paused on the garden path leading to her hall and was doing something in the snow with the tip of her umbrella. All the same not looking back, she moved on without waiting for him. When he reached the spot he saw that she had written 'I love you' in the snow. It was that dark, he believed ever afterwards, that she became pregnant. — Alan Judd

When they [the Church building] have opened a gap in the hedge or wall of separation between the garden of the church and the wilderness of the world, God hath ever broke down the wall itself, removed the Candlestick, etc., and fabricated His Garden a wilderness as it is this day. And that therefore if He will e'er please to restore His garden and Paradise once again, information technology must of necessity be walled in peculiarly unto Himself from the globe, and all that be saved out of the world are to be transplanted out of the wilderness of the World. — Roger Williams

Dad leapt over the garden wall instead of going through the gate. Sadly he didn't do himself a severe injury, and and so he lives to embarrass me to decease another day. — Louise Rennison

It's surprisingly nice out here, peaceful and pretty-strange to be standing in the middle of a little garden while enclosed by the massive stone walls of the prison, like being at the verbal center of a hurricane, and finding peace and silence in the eye of so much shrieking damage. — Lauren Oliver

6 years previously, Miss Brodie had led her new class into the garden for a history lesson underneath the big elm. On the fashion through the schoolhouse corridors they passed the headmistress's study. The door was wide open, the room was empty.
'Little girls,' said Miss Brodie, 'come and discover this.'
They clustered round the open door while she pointed to a large affiche pinned with drawing-pins on the contrary wall within the room. It depicted a man's big face. Underneath were the words 'Prophylactic Start'.
'This is Stanley Baldwin who got in every bit Prime number Minister and got out again ere long,' said Miss Brodie. 'Miss Mackay retains him on the wall because she believes in the slogan "Safety Showtime". But Rubber does not come up first. Goodness, Truth and Beauty come first. Follow me. — Muriel Spark

Kestrel climbed down and studied the garden in the lamplight thrown from her sunroom. She chewed the within of her cheek, and was wondering whether books stacked on the chair on peak of the table would make a difference when she heard something.
The grate of a heel against pebbles. It came from beyond the door, and the other side of the wall.
Someone had been listening.
Was listening still.
As quietly every bit she could, Kestrel took the chair down from the table and went inside.

Earlier Arin left for the mount pass, during the coldest hours of the night, he found time to society that every piece of piece of furniture light enough for Kestrel to move exist taken from her suite. — Marie Rutkoski

This is really why I made my daughters larn to garden - and so they would e'er have a female parent to honey them, long subsequently I am gone. — Robin Wall Kimmerer

In Flemish bond, headers alternating with stretchers from brick to brick. Flemish bond is much more popular than English, not because information technology is stronger, but because information technology is more economical since every facade has more than long faces than curt ones, and thus requires fewer bricks. But there were many other patterns - Chinese bond, Dearne's bond, English garden-wall bond, cross bond, rat-trap bond, monk bail, flight bail, and and then on - each signifying a different configuration of headers and stretchers. — Pecker Bryson

The Garden
En robe de parade.
- Samain
Like a skein of loose silk blown confronting a wall
She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,
And she is dying piece-meal
of a sort of emotional anaemia.
And round near there is a rabble
Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.
They shall inherit the earth.
In her is the end of breeding.
Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.
She would like some one to speak to her,
And is almost afraid that I
will commit that indiscretion. — Ezra Pound

The moon has a face similar the clock in the hall;
She shines on thieves on the garden wall,
On streets and fields and harbour quays,
And birdies comatose in the forks of the copse. — Robert Louis Stevenson

I'd never been in love, never felt that surge of feeling or that fall from its graces. I'd merely watched as others weathered it: my mother in her garden, Sumner on the front lawn all those years ago, Ashley sobbing from the other side of a wall. I sat kerbside with my best friend and held her, trying to shoulder some of the hurt. At that place'south only and so much y'all tin practice, in these situations. — Sarah Dessen

The memories are so close I feel your presence everywhere. And I see forward and then clearly and sadly to a time when the memories volition exist afar. I won't be able to picture your painting things scattered on a flat rock in Ammoudi or your bare feet soaking up the sunshine on Valia's garden wall. Now I see them. Long after that I will remember them. — Ann Brashares

There was a mews in a lane which runs downward by one wall of the garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their — Arthur Conan Doyle

That's my little piece of sky. Become ahead."
Ciro followed Remo through the open up door to a small enclosed garden. Terra-cotta pots positioned along the top of the stone wall spilled over with red geraniums and orange impatiens. An elm tree with a wide body and deep roots filled the center of the garden. Its dark-green leaves and thick branches reached past the roof of Remo'south edifice, creating a canopy over the garden. There was a modest white marble birdbath, grey with soot, flanked by two deep wicker armchairs.
Remo fished a cigarette out of his pocket, offering another to Ciro equally both men took a seat. "This is where I come to think."
"Va bene," Ciro said as he looked up into the tree. He remembered the thousands of trees that blanketed the Alps; here on Mulberry Street, one tree with peeling gray bawl and holes in its leaves was cause for celebration. — Adriana Trigiani

What did the others give to each other?
Nothingness.
Granger stood looking back with Montag. Anybody must leave something behind
when he dies, my grandpa said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a
wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand
touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when yous die, and when
people look at that tree or that flower yous planted, you're there. Information technology doesn't matter what y'all do, he said, so long equally you change something from the way it was before y'all touched it into something that'due south like y'all after you take your easily away. The
difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the
touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just likewise not accept been in that location at all; the
gardener will exist there a lifetime. — Ray Bradbury

My love, you are closer to me than myself ...
You polish through my eyes,
Your light is brighter than the Moon ...
Step into the garden and then all the flowers ...
Fifty-fifty the tall poplar can kneel before your beauty ...
Let your voice silence the lily famous for its hundred tongues,
When yous want to exist kind ...
You lot are softer than the soul ...
But when you withdraw ...
You can be so common cold and harsh.
Dear 1, you tin can be wild and rebellious ...
But when y'all meet him confront to face ...
His charm volition make you docile like the globe,
Throw away your shield and bare your breast ...
In that location is no stronger protection than him.
That'southward why when the Lover withdraws from the world ...
He covers all the cracks in the wall ...
So the outside light cannot come though,
He knows that merely the inner light illuminates his world! — Rumi

How practise you like to get upwards in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do recall it the pleasantest matter
E'er a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see and then wide,
River and copse and cattle and all
Over the countryside.
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so chocolate-brown-
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down! — Robert Louis Stevenson

They arrived dwelling over again to a about peculiar sight. The pocket-sized garden at the front end of the Assistant Firm had been transformed. A tidal wave of cushions, beanbags, quilts, hearth rugs, and sleeping bags appeared to accept swept up the lawn and cleaved at the wall. From Indigo's window a multicolored rope of knotted bedsheets came snaking out and concluded amid the cushions. As Micheal and Caddy watched, a mattress emerged and vicious to the ground, followed by a rain of pillows.
"Indigo!" shouted Caddy, jumping out of the car.
Indigo's and Rose's heads appeared in the window above.
"It's all correct, Caddy!" Indigo called cheerfully. "We've been doing it all the fourth dimension you've been gone."
"We keep finding more stuff to country on!" added Rose. "Look! — Hilary McKay

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