Coverings For Patio Quotes

Of all modes of transport, the train is perhaps the best aid to thought. The views have none of the potential monotony of those on a ship or a plane, moving quickly enough for us not to get exasperated but slowly enough to allow us to identify objects. They offer us brief, inspiring glimpses into private domains, letting us see a woman at the precise moment when she takes a cup from a shelf in her kitchen, then carrying us on to a patio where a man is sleeping and then to a park where a child is catching a ball thrown by a figure we cannot see. ~ Alain De Botton

Jackson stood quietly as Alani came into the house. Unlike the other women, she didn't wear a swimsuit. Shame. He'd love to see her in one. Everyone had duly celebrated Trace's engagement, and Alani seemed taken with Priss - but then, who wouldn't be? Priss was funny, smart, cute and - luckily for Trace - stacked.
Unaware of Jackson, Alani stopped to look out the patio doors. She looked . . . wistful. Like maybe she wanted to take part, but couldn't.
In so many ways, despite being kidnapped by flesh peddlers, or maybe because of that, she was still an innocent. At just-barely twenty-three, she acted much older.
Like a virgin spinster.
Every night, in his dreams, they burned up the sheets.
Here, in reality, she avoided him. She avoided involvement.
But he'd get her over that. Somehow.
Suddenly Priss came in, wet hair sleek down her back, rivulets of water trailing between her breasts. She spotted Jackson right off and, after smiling at Alani, asked them both, "Why aren't you guys coming down to swim?"
Alani jerked around to stare at Jackson with big eyes.
His crooked smile told her that he had her in his sights. "I was just about to ask Alani that."
Priss laughed. "You're still dressed."
"I can undress fast enough." He looked at Alani. "What about you?"
Her lips parted. "No, I . . . didn't bring a suit."
"Pity. Maybe we could move up to the cove and skinny-dip in private?"
Pointing a finger at him, Priss sa ~ Lori Foster

[Funeral sermon, 02/08/1880]
How is it with this young man here? Well, I wish it were otherwise; I wish he had lived a very good Saint, which, however, he did not do. We have not come here to indulge in any kind of false sentimentality. He was a drunkard; that is a truth and many of you know it. . . . His father lived up to the Gospel, and died strong in the faith; and his mother has been a very good woman, so far as I know; I have never known anything against her. This boy has caused her a great deal of trouble; and I have been sorry for him. Well, should we tell things? Yes, always; that day is not far distant when the coverings will be taken from the face of all people, and we shall all stand naked, as it were, before God--both you and I and this young man. Well this boy,--I call him a boy, he is a young man, and is a nephew of mine by marriage; and I would not want to say anything about him on that account, neither would I falsify the young man on that account; but let us tell things and understand them as they are. . . .

I would say, I do not utter these things to cause any unpleasant feeling in the bosom of the family; they cannot help it. If I could have helped it, I would; if the mother could have helped it, she would; if the sister could have helped it, she would; if the friends could have helped it, they would. . . .

We are now talking not to the dead, but to the living. I would say, Let us avoid these evils, they lead down to death; let u ~ John Taylor

For this was the real desert where differences of race and colour, of wealth and social standing, are almost meaningless; where coverings of pretence are stripped away and basic truths emerge. ~ Wilfred Thesiger

The afternoon is bright, with spring in the air, a mild March afternoon, with the breath of April stirring, I am alone in the quiet patio looking for some old untried illusion - some shadow on the whiteness of the wall some memory asleep on the stone rim of the fountain, perhaps in the air the light swish of some trailing gown. ~ Antonio Machado

This is the Propylon." He waved toward a stone path lined with crumbling columns. "One of the main gates into the Olympic valley."
"Rubble!" said Leo
"And over there - " Frank pointed to a square foundation that looked like the patio for a Mexican restaurant - "is the Temple of Hera, one of the oldest structures here."
"More rubble!" Leo said.
"And that round bandstand-looking thing - that's the Philipeon, dedicated to Philip of Macedonia."
"Even more rubble! First rate rubble! ~ Rick Riordan

I wake up one day and it's twenty-plus years later, and here I am still. That's getting left behind. And even then, you can have a decent life. You know why I'm still here? It's because I'm content. Maybe even happy. I found my path. My life is simple. I wake up in the morning. I eat my Cheerios, drink my coffee, think my thoughts. I go home after work and sit on my back patio and pet my dog and listen to music and myself breathing. It feels good to be alive and exist. Most things haven't worked out for me - especially love - but that's all right. I'm not as pretty as I used to be. More of my life's behind me than in front of me. Who knows how many years I took off it while I was partying. But I'm a lot healthier now, if you can believe it.
"I get lonely sometimes, but so does everyone else. We're all looking for some sort of salvation in something sometimes we try to find it in people. We find out salvation, and it slips through our fingers. We find it again. We get left behind. Living is hurting, but I'll take living over the alternative any day. Consciousness is a marvelous gift. It took almost dying to make me realize that. Hell, I'm just rambling now. Anyway, having said all this, you did not get left behind. ~ Jeff Zentner

Dad's in D.C. all week," he said as we climbed out, "so I get to use the garage. Parking's a bitch around here."
I didn't know whether to roll my eyes or sympathize.
"Is your mom home?" I really didn't know how I felt about seeing Karina Romanova in her own home. Well,no.
Truth: I was worried how she would feel about seeing me in it.
"Will she mind my being here?"
"Why would she?" Alex gave me an odd look as he pushed open a small door onto a wide brick patio. "But no, she's at the studio until midnight. It's just you,me,and the lacrosse team."
I could see myself with amazing clarity in the huge glass wall that was the entire back of the house. I was small, dark, and frozen. "You're kidding, right?"
Next to mine, Alex's reflection looked twice as big and ust as still. "You're kidding. Right?"
I nodded. Clearly not emphatically enough.
"Christ,Ella. Who do you think I am?"
I sighed. Honestly, I didn't know. "I think you're probably a terrific guy, Alex. But let's be truthful here.We don't really know each other."
"Oh,come one.We've gone to school together for two and a half years. I've been to Marino's..." He stopped. Sighed. "Okay.Fine.So let's change it. Now." And he unlocked the door to his house. ~ Melissa Jensen

One spring patio is for rodeos
niggled with iodine figures, weaved
tapestries inside vast Tuileries.
But that reminds me, how exactly
do words form brittle histories ~ Adam Fitzgerald

History shows that the human mind, fed by constant accessions of knowledge, periodically grows too large for its theoretical coverings, and bursts them asunder to appear in new habiliments, as the feeding and growing grub, at intervals, casts its too narrow skin and assumes another. ~ Charles Darwin

Toe. He was even wearing a ski mask with strange meshlike coverings over the eyes. We didn't get a lot of ninjas in Half-Moon Hollow. And I'm pretty sure Jed would have responded. So I wasn't quite sure how to react here. Was this some sort of test from Jane to determine whether I would survive a parking-lot attack? Couldn't I just roll around in a gym with a practice dummy or something? The figure cocked his head to the side, staring at me like some predatory creature considering his best approach. I dropped my bag and kicked out of my sandals. I could do this. Sure, I had no fighting experience, but I had superstrength and speed on my side. Then again maybe this guy did, too. He could be a ninja chupacabra for all I knew. But ~ Molly Harper

You're crazy," I whispered, attempting to tug my hand from Sebastian's grip.
"Crazy for you," he countered, leading me into his kitchen through the back patio
door.
"You're ridiculous." I rolled my eyes.
"Ridiculously infatuated with you," he revised, tugging me along behind him. ~ Julie Johnson

The wearing of fabric head coverings in worship was universally the practice of Christian women until the twentieth century. What happened? Did we suddenly find some biblical truth to which the saints for thousands of years were blind? Or were our biblical views of women gradually eroded by the modern feminist movement that has infiltrated the Church ~ R.C. Sproul

It occurred to me one evening, as I sat by myself in Al's patio, that a man can live on his wits and his balls for only so long. I'd been doing it for ten years and I had a feeling that my reserve was running low. ~ Hunter S. Thompson

New Orleans, said he usually dresses in costume for the Mardi Gras holiday, but the weather deterred him this year. Baker said he chose to celebrate a little differently - sipping cocktails under the cover of a friend's French Quarter patio balcony while watching other costumed revelers ~ Anonymous

A raging, glowering full moon had come up, was peering down over the side of the sky well above the patio.
That was the last thing she saw as she leaned for a moment, inert with fatigue, against the doorway of the room in which her child lay. Then she dragged herself in to topple headlong upon the bed and, already fast asleep, to circle her child with one protective arm, moving as if of its own instinct.
Not the meek, the pallid, gentle moon of home. This was the savage moon that had shone down on Montezuma and Cuauhtemoc, and came back looking for them now. The primitive moon that had once looked down on terraced heathen cities and human sacrifices. The moon of Anahuac. ("The Moon Of Montezuma") ~ Cornell Woolrich

I lived in the Quarter for two years, but in the end I got tired of Birmingham businessmen smirking around Bourbon Street and the homosexuals and patio connoisseurs on Royal Street. ~ Walker Percy

Can I see you outside for a second?" Kat glared at Hale, then walked to the patio doors and out onto the veranda.
As Hale closed the door behind him, Kat heard Angus say, "Ooh, Mom and Dad are going to fight now. ~ Ally Carter

Some people will tell you that Toronto, in the summer, is the nothing more than a cesspool of pollution, garbage, and the smells of a hundred ethnicities competing for top spot in a race won historically by curry, garlic, and the occasional cauldron of boiled cabbage. Take a walk down College Street West, Gerrard Street East, or the Danforth, and you'll see; then, they add - these people, complaining - that the stench is so pervasive, so incorrigible, nor merely for lack of wind, but for the ninety-nine percent humidity, which, after a rainstorm, adds an eradicable bottom-note of sweaty Birkenstocks and the organic tang of decaying plant life. This much is true; there is, however, more to the story. Take a walk down the same streets and you'll find racks of the most stunning saris - red with navy brocade, silver, canary, vermillion and chocolate; marts with lahsun and adrak, pyaz and pudina; windows of gelato, zeppole, tiramisu; dusty smoke shops with patio-bistros; you'll find dove-white statuary of Olympian goddesses, mobs in blue jerseys, primed for the World Cup - and more, still, the compulsory banter of couples who even after forty years can turn foul words into the bawdiest, more unforgettable laughter (and those are just the details). Beyond them is the container, the big canvas brushed with parks and valleys and the interminable shore; a backdrop of ferries and islands, gulls and clouds - sparkles of a million wave-tips as the sun decides which colours to leave on it ~ Cory Ingram

There was a very small crowd - minuscule compared to the crowd that he gathered later - at a private home in Los Angeles. And we were standing on the back patio, waiting for him. And he came through the house, saw me and immediately put his hand up in the Vulcan gesture. He said, 'They told me you were here.' We had a wonderful, brief conversation and I said, 'It would be logical if you would become president.' ~ Leonard Nimoy

I wish I could hold your hand outside this room, go for a walk, sit on a patio, watch the world go by. ~ Leylah Attar

THE WEEPING WILLOW

Flowing was the water
showing in its mirror the willow trees.
The weeping willows in the water were washing their hair!
Striking the willows with their sparkling, bare swords
the red horsemen were running to where the sun sets!
Suddenly
like a bird
as if struck
in the wing
a wounded horseman rolled down from his horse!
He didn't shout,
he did'nt call back those who go along,
he just looked with brimming eyes
at the shining horseshoes of departing riders!

O what a pity!
What a pity for him that
no more he shall lie on the foaming necks of galloping horses,
no more he shall play his sword behind the white armies!

The sounds of the horseshoes fades away slowly,
the horsemen vanish at where the sun sets!

Horsemen horsemen red horsemen,
their horses winged with wind!
Their horses winged with...
Their horses winged...
Their horses...
Horse...

Life has passed like the wind winged horsemen!

The voice of the flowing water ceased.
The shadows shadowed
the colours wiped off.
Black coverings came down
over his blue eyes,
the weeping willows hung down
over his
yellow hair!

Weep not weeping willow
weep not,
in the mirror of the black water clasp not your hands!
clasp not your hands!
weep not! ~ Nâzım Hikmet Ran

The shoes represent my ability to provide foot coverings for you and maybe one day our children." Fane cleared his throat and continued, fumbling along as he went.
"You see, it is important that you know that you won't be without something on your feet, so-" Jacque held up her hand to stop Fane from going any further.
"There are no shoes in this box, are there?" Fane shook his head once. "Not one."
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 243). Kindle Edition. ~ Quinn Loftis

My mother's true appeal went beyond the clash of the beautiful trust fund darling as the arm candy of an overweight trailer salesman. Carl grew up in harsh, chaotic poverty. His escape was the alcoholism that was conceived during puberty and flourished throughout adulthood. His initial career was a diesel mechanic wearing faded coveralls with oil up his nails and sweat on his brow. His earliest homes were the dingy trailers he would later profit from. His first marriage was doused with benders, acid trips, and sex crazed parties packed with orgies with a first wife who'd lost track of number of dicks shoved down her throat in the midst of intoxication. I don't know what sparked his revelation, but at some point, Carl decided to fiercely pursue the world he envied. He wanted a life of starched, white shirts, ties, SUVs, and picket fences. He ached for the scent of steaks grilling on his sunny patio. He dreamed of white-collar southern beauty and my mother, in all her naïve innocence, was the loveliest possession he could ever obtain. ~ Magda Young

While the list of easiest crops varies from region to region, there are a few super-simple standouts. Radishes and green beans top most gardeners' "no-fail" lists. Other easy crops include cucumbers, summer squash, zucchini, garlic, leaf lettuce, snap peas, Swiss chard, and kale. Tomatoes are a bit more difficult but not by much. The newer compact hybrid tomatoes developed for patio culture are especially easy. Start small ~ Carleen Madigan

We must not put pressure on people, but by providing information on the population and the environments, and appropriate contraception for everyone ... doctors should help bring family size into the arena of environmental ethics, analogous to avoiding patio heaters and high carbon cars. ~ John Guillebaud

We want Old Town Square to be a focal point for fun in Bandera, a place where locals can hold their special events and meetings, or just visit us for a relaxing dinner with friends on the patio. Likewise, tourists can use Old Town Square as a home base during their visit to Bandera. They can stay overnight and dine with us, but also explore all that Bandera has to offer. This was the place to come to. We want to make it that kind of place again. ~ Jerry Reed

Sophia had been hard pressed not to laugh when MacLean had tripped over one of the floorboards she and Angus had pried loose. Better yet, MacLean had ripped his lace-edged sleeve on a broken nail in the doorframe of his bedchamber. She knew because she'd heard his loud curse from the hallway.
Sophia had expected him to roar at the servants and demand things be repaired, but all he did was ask Angus for a hammer to protect himself from the loose boards and stray nails that seemed to plague MacFarlane House.
To Sophia's delight, Angus had gloomily replied that there weren't enough hammers in the whole of Scotland to do that.
Since Angus had left MacLean in his bedchamber, they hadn't heard a word from him. Perhaps the man was sleeping, although how could anyone sleep in such a damp room and with such a lumpy mattress and smoky chimney?
More likely, he was awake and seething at being forced to endure such horrid conditions. She wished she had been there to witness his reaction to the threadbare furniture with broken springs and flat cushions, the inadequate bed coverings for the chilly chamber (it faced north, where the wind was fiercest), a window that was nailed slightly open, and more. ~ Karen Hawkins

She can outstare anyone, and I am almost as good. We're impervious, we scintillate, we are thirteen. We wear long wool coats with tie belts, the collars turned up to look like those of movie stars, and rubber boots with the tops folded down and men's work socks inside. In our pockets are stuffed the kerchiefs our mothers make us wear but that we take off as soon as we're out of their sight. We scorn head coverings. Our mouths are tough, crayon-red, shiny as nails. We think we are friends. ~ Margaret Atwood

We think we have to work because the advertising industry has elevated wants into needs. The newspapers and the television batter us incessantly with the latest 'must-haves', whether that's shoes, videogames or patio heaters. As a result, mums think they 'have' to work at Tesco in order to buy expensive trainers. ~ Tom Hodgkinson

This was different. It had synths droning and sending saltwater waves under my feet. It had drumbeats bursting like fireworks, rumbling the furniture out of place, and then a crazy, irregular, disharmonious, spiral crescendo of pure electric noise, like a typhoon dragging our bodies into it. It featured brass orchestras and choirs of mermaids and a piano in Iceland, all of them right there, visible, touchable, in Axton House. It shook us, fucked us, suspended us far above the reach of Help bouncing on his hind legs. It spoke of magenta sunsets and plastic patio chairs growing moss under summer storms rolling on caterpillar tracks. It sprinkled a bokeh of car lights rushing through night highways and slapped our faces like the wind at a hundred and twenty miles an hour. It pictured Niamh playing guitar, washed up naked on a beach in Fiji. ~ Edgar Cantero

Before Ethan went all Incredible Hulk on Thayer's ass, the most exciting thing to happen was a spray-cheese fight some of the morons from the wrestling team got into on the back patio. ~ Sara Shepard

They smoked on the patio. The wind was warm. Snow had gone to slush in the street. Clouds shredded into flying ribbons. Off to the right, the mountain was alive and wild in flashing shadows. A piece of it wavered in sheets of rain with patches of blue sky behind it. But it wasn't raining in town. Most of the sky was sunny. All the weather in the world had come to the valley. ~ Ryan Blacketter

I took the photos with me and heard Lucija making the call. As I closed the door behind me, I caught the scent of death from the patio, carried on the breeze moving the branches of the olive trees. ~ Bobby Underwood

You know," I fold my arms over my chest. "You're quite annoying, but I guess your company is better than no company." Keegan presses his arm against the wall beside my head and smiles. His curly black hair stands out against his pale skin. The slightest bit of sunlight finds its way inside the patio, reflecting upon his icy green eyes. His light pink lips turn up in a smile. With his mouth closed, he is actually quite attractive. ~ Nicole Sobon

My parents watch too many soap operas, that's their trouble. In fact, they were probably hoping I was pregnant. By my wicked married lover whom they could then murder and bury under the patio. ~ Sophie Kinsella

After I have several cups of liquid gold on the patio, ~ Karina Halle

Dr Urbino recognized their oppressive weight, their ominous silence, their suffocating gases, which on so many insomniac dawns had risen to his bedroom, blending with the fragrance of jasmine from the patio, and which he felt pass by him like a wind out of yesterday that had nothing to do with his life. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

He was tender with her. He wiped her eyelids with his handkerchief, not noticing how soiled it was. It was stained with ink, crumpled, stuck together. Her lids were large and tender and the handkerchief was stiff, not nearly soft enough. He moistened a corner in his mouth. He was painfully aware of the private softness of her skin, of how the eyes trembled beneath their coverings. He dried the tears with an affection, a particularity, that had never been exercised before. It was a demonstration of 'nature.' He was a birth-wet foal rising to his feet. ~ Peter Carey

I was sitting at a friend's place in Michigan on vacation, having a beer on the patio. I was a little hefty. I said to myself: "Okay, I'm going to finish this weekend off strong, then after that I'm going to shut her down. I'm going to start taking better care of myself." ~ Chris Pronger

Oh? Now tell me your gut reaction to the following words. Colonial.
Dellahay. Wood. Patio. Five Pieces. Sun resistant, wind resistant, Judgment
Day resistant. Amazing value at just $299. And consider the Dellahay motto
neatly inscribed on their cute little tags: 'Patio furniture isn't furniture. It's a
state of mind.' " Dad smiled, putting his arm around me as he pushed me
gently toward Garden. "I'll give you ten thousand dollars if you can tell me
what that means. ~ Marisha Pessl

Betty's now have a patio garden, where the tourists can sit in the sun and fry to a crisp; it's in the back, that little square of cracked cement where they used to keep the garbage cans. They offer tortellini and cappuccino, boldly proclaimed in the window as if everyone in town just naturally knows what they are. Well, they do by now; they've had a try, if only to acquire sneering rights. ~ Margaret Atwood

Claire. - Venus hung low on the Atlantic horizon of a dawn sky. Continuing to shine brightly, her watery reflection lit up a path on the sea across the bay to where Claire stood on the patio. The shining goddess was the last thing she remembered seeing through the bedroom window, before succumbing to sleep. She was high in the night sky then, the brightest of all heavenly bodies, casting an apparent examination of what was euphemistically known as Orion's 'sword'. ~ Francine Scott

What a place to be in is an old library! It seems as though all the souls of all the writers that have bequeathed their labours to these Bodleians were reposing here as in some dormitory, or middle state. I do not want to handle, to profane the leaves, their winding-sheets. I could as soon dislodge a shade. I seem to inhale learning, walking amid their foliage; and the odor of their old moth-scented coverings is fragrant as the first bloom of the sciential apples which grew amid the happy orchard. ~ Charles Lamb

He set a brisk pace through the trees, but not so fast that he failed to notice the brilliant green fronds of new bracken beginning to unfurl, or the first pale buds of primroses pushing out of their green coverings. Birdsong filled the air, and the fresh scent of growing things. ~ Erin Hunter

I bought a big-ass house and haven't decorated it yet," Psycho replied defensively. "Patio furniture looks good in my living room. I don't
have a lamp. The red and green Christmas lights work just fine."
"The lights blink."
"So do I. ~ Kate Angell