Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Thicket's. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Thicket's Quotes And Sayings by 88 Authors including Half Man Half Biscuit,Richard Adams,Patrick O'brian,Cheryl R Cowtan,Ambrose Bierce for you to enjoy and share.
There's a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millett's
Narrow lanes climb both slopes and come together in a great ring of elm trees which encircles the flat summit. Any wind
even the slightest
draws from the height of the elms a rushing sound, multifoliate and powerful.
Puddings, my dear sir?' cried Graham.
Puddings. We trice 'em athwart the starboard gumbrils, when sailing by and large.
Angus was courting me with lines that stabbed deep in lonely, barren places. Like an unfair conqueror, he was delivering his words with an accent that had me dreaming of castles and lochs, and strong thighs under a rough kilt.
CEMETERY, n. An isolated suburban spot where mourners match lies, poets write at a target and stone-cutters spell for a wager.
thick negroid lips
Shallow brooks murmur most, deep and silent slide away.
A soup so thick you could shake its hand and stroll with it before dinner.
By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
If any man so daring
As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.
The sharp employ the sharp.
We are accustomed in England to chalk in rolling downs, except where bitten into by the sea, but elsewhere it is riven and presents cliffs, and these cliffs are not at all like that of Shakespeare at Dover but overhang, where hard beds alternate with others that are friable.
Ah, I remember now why you ceased to amuse, Myrnin. You use honesy like a club.
Madox, what is the name of that hollow at the base of a woman's neck? At the front. Here. What is it, does it have an official name? That hollow about the size of an impress of your thumb?"
Madox watches me for a moment through the noon glare.
"Pull yourself together," he mutters.
This town of Sheffield is very populous and large, the streets narrow, and the houses dark and black, occasioned by the continued smoke of the forges, which are always at work: Here they make all sorts of cutlery-ware, but especially that of edged-tools, knives, razors, axes, &. and nails
Walls have tongues, and hedges ears.
Poison ivy, because who needed a case of that on your pecker). We're all here in Derry. No camp, no relatives, no vacations, no AWAY. All right here. Present and accounted for. There's
Good morrow, fair ones; pray you, if you know,
Where in the purlieus of this forest stands
A sheep-cote fenc'd about with olive trees?
you curdled clot of whores piss
You'll find that no pride is greater than the pride that comes with being thick. Britain is filled with people who are really proud of their stupidity.
Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.
And wild-scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale.
I like thick or middle (spaghetti). Thin for me is always overcooked by the time I'm eating it.
My Becca's home.
What's all the row over at Ben's?" [Mrs. Ide] inquired, placidly, from her comfortable chair.
"Rustlers, cattle, foremen, sheriffs, and Heaven only knows what," replied Hettie, distractedly.
The thorny point
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show
Of smooth civility; yet am I inland bred
And know some nurture.
Oh my god you're thicker than you look
The slaves of custom and established mode,
With pack-horse constancy we keep the road
Crooked or straight, through quags or thorny dells,
True to the jingling of our leader's bells.
Southly thru shrubby heath we tromped now till we got to wideway. Wideway I'd heard o' from storymen an' here it was, an open, long, flat o' roadstone. SAplin's'n'bush was musclin' up but wondersome'n'wild was that windy space.
Go boldly forth, my simple lay,Whose accents flow with artless ease,Like orient pearls at random strung.
Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal the mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne.
Oakmont, you've got to be playing slope.
I have settled down in this border area; I am trying to find distinct standards of shape, and I long to experience, formulate, and evoke this dark, heavy, tranquillity.
Oh what was the racket that backeted and smashed in raging might, to make this oil-puddle world?
I'm as thick as a plank.
West of Arkham the hills rise wild, and there are valleys with deep woods that no axe has ever cut.
the Dew-Drop Inn & Fishing Camp;
The Dew-Drop Inn & Fishing Camp;
Was there supposed to be a moment of blinding clarity when the path through the thicket appeared, brightly illuminated, and Good, Bad, and Morally Neutral all sorted themselves out, slightly messy but completely unambiguous, like egg yolk and egg white and shell?
If so, I missed it
Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set.
Love the skinny model chicks but I prefer the thickness.
All the fatt's in the fire.
Hedge-hogs abound in my gardens and fields.
Shattered edges of the diamonds rough sets to cut the unsuspecting.
bird's nest of curly salt-and-pepper
Shropshire, the fatlands of Gloucestershire,
Worpswede, Worpswede, I cannot get you out of my mind ... Your magnificent pine trees! I call them my men
thick, gnarled, powerful, and tall
yet with the most delicate nerves and fibers in them.
We love each other like brutes. Gorgeously
and twilled. Any geography is hard. The skin
ends where skin ends.
It's mapless. I want to be borrowed, to be
assembled, again. To feel a tug on the other
side of the string.
Cow - Tanith Low
With spots quadrangular of diamond form, ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, and spades, the emblems of untimely graves.
But for most practical purposes Tarbean had two pieces: Waterside and Hillside. Waterside is where people are poor. That makes them beggars, thieves, and whores. Hillside is where people are rich. That makes them solicitors, politicians, and courtesans. I
The bent but unbroken ones.
JOSS-STICKS- Small sticks burned by the Chinese in their pagan tomfoolery, in imitation of certain sacred rites of our holy religion.
Cussed fellow-critters! Kick up de damndest row as ever you can; fill your dam bellies 'till dey bust - and den die
Pasture, stone wall, and steeple,
What most perturbs the mind:
The heart-rending homely people,
Or the horrible beautiful kind?
Remember, our kind protects you Normals from the Pures. We are the rope tied between man and super-beast. A rope forever dangling from the precipice.
I tap Zetania's shoulder and ask, "What's a precipice?"
"A cliff's edge," she whispers.
Precipice. Must be a French word.
I got highways for stretchmarks
See where I've grown.
Your precious dirty underpants and scores of blades are untouched by me. But I'm not thick. I can actually see something dangerous and not poke myself in the eye with it.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
Rude poets of the tavern hearth,
squandering your unquoted mirth,
which keeps the ground, and never soars,
while jake retorts, and reuben roars;
tough and screaming, as birch-bark,
goes like bullet to its mark;
while the solid curse and jeer
never balk the waiting ear.
You and what army of snaggled toothed wine sots?
the Poor Men of Lyons,
Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks and rivers wide Towers and battlements it sees Bosom'd high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighboring eyes.
Your trench. The lice were "chats," the food was
Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard! Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn!
Knicks and dull edges are abominations, so use knives and hatchets for nothing but they were made for.
Stout as a horse
Newrose, Oldrose, Quean Anne's lace.
Water, river, stone and sun
Wind over hill, under tree.
Past the border none can see.
Climbing into dark for you,
Will you climb in stars for me?
P.124
Wretched set of incompetent noodles.
For most practical purposes, Tarbean had two parts: Waterside and Hillside. Waterside is where people are poor. That makes them beggars, thieves and whores. Hillside is where people are rich. That makes them solicitors, politicians and courtesans.
cheek, the one so disfigured by that
A plane of cheekbone,
heads that edged the huge fireplace, and I
So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenced in stronds afar remote.
Desert trees that don't grow up but grow gnarled and thick. Stunted and stubborn. Remind me of Bangley. They just refuse to die at any price. Some
Deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they builded us; but they are gone.
A siege is a deadly dull.
Our backs hut from gathering them: how hard they were to find among the concealing leaves, the frosted deceiving grass.
varieties of sunken cheek, cadaverous
The brazen throat of war.
Cement in bold relief, - far underground. I lean my elbows on the table, and the lamp lights brightly the newspapers I am fool enough to re-read, and the absurd books.
Gundhrold's head lowered until his massive beak was only inches away from Amos's nose. "I am a son of the desert. This was once my home - the home of all my kind. I know every crag, every slope, every crick and hollow-"
Amos rolled his eyes. "Every blatherin' speck o' sand?
The Hemlock Tearoom and Stationery
Up in the glade, and notch an arrow.
Jamadars and bheesties,' said the helmsman. 'Not to mention the major-domos, lordly lamplighters and twisted firestarters.' 'Twisted firestarters?' enquired the detective. 'I told you not to mention them.
You do like them thin, don't you?" Pyrlig said, amused. "Now I like them meaty as well-fed heifers! Give me a nice dark Briton with hips like a pair of ale barrels and I'm a happy priest. Poor Hild. Thin as a ray of sunlight, she is, but I pity a Dane who crosses her path today.
Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land.
Old woods and deep. At one time in the world there were woods that no one owned and these were like them.
Gankis lifted an arm to point at the distant shale cliffs. "And in the face of it there were thousands of little holes, little what-you-call-'ems ... "
"Alcoves," Kennit supplied in an almost dreamy voice. "I call them alcoves, Gankis. As would you, if you could speak your own mother tongue.
The finest edge is made with the blunt whetstone.
Sheeps' Head Stew Oxtail
What society needs is broad men sharpened to a point.
prickly pears from behind a barbed-wire fence. Faded lettering on the sign, designed as a lasso that had at one
But beef is rare within these oxless isles; Goat's flesh there is, no doubt, and kid, and mutton; And, when a holiday upon them smiles, A joint upon their barbarous spits they put on.
A fortress with an arsenal of weapons designed to stave off hungry,
How many crumpets, at a sittin', do you think 'ud kill me off at once?" says the patient. "I don't know," says the doctor. "Do you think half-a-crown's wurth 'ud do it?" says the patient. "I think it might," says the doctor.
Mountains have long-lost kinfolk on the other side of the Atlantic. The bloodline that marks that kinship is a vein of a green mineral called serpentine ...
cudgel! That's worth thy trouble,
I sheathe my spear on my back and I plow through bushes dotted with prickly balls, feeling them scratch and scrape my skin, but do not stop.
What's a' your jargon o' your schools, Your Latin names for horns and stools; If honest nature made you fools.
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety.