Quotes About Backyard

Where I was living, there was a backyard, and we had a lot of neighbors with cats. These cats used to just sit on the wall, and one day I just turned around and there was a cat sitting there.

My husband and son are at the movies, and the hellhounds, appropriately named Duvel (Duch/Belgian dialect for ''devil'') and Hexe (German for ''witch''), are in the backyard for the evening. Only the cat, Vegas (I know, right? Totally doesn't fit the theme, but she came with the name) is running around the house, She gives the newcomers a bored look before heading to the bedroom to get white fur all over my pillow. What grows on Vegas does not stay on Vegas.

But dandelions were what she chiefly saw. Yellow jewels for everyday studding the patched green dress of her back yard. She liked their demure prettiness second to their everydayness; for in that latter quality she thought she saw a picture of herself, and it was comforting to find that what was common could also be a flower.

Our neighborhood had more than its share of challenges, from poverty to crime to unhealthy air. It may not have been the safest neighborhood, but my mom felt blessed that we had the sanctuary of a backyard. And we had a strong sense of community.

There is no need to look at Venezuela for examples of why socialism doesn't work, they're in our own backyard.

People need to see that the gospel belongs in their workplace, their kitchen, their school, their bedroom, their backyard, and their van. They need to see the way the gospel makes a connection between what they are doing and what God is doing.

There are different sorts of treachery, but betrayal is betrayal wherever you find it. She burnt a lot more than the letters that night in the backyard. I don't think she knew. In her head she was still queen, but not my queen any more, not the White Queen any more. Walls protect and walls limit. It is in the nature of walls that they should fall. That walls should fall is the consequence of blowing your own trumpet.

My parents were kind of over protective people. Me and my sister had to play in the backyard all the time. They bought us bikes for Christmas but wouldn't let us ride in the street, we had to ride in the backyard. Another Christmas, my dad got me a basketball hoop and put it in the middle of the lawn! You can't dribble on grass.

I was always blessed growing up with opportunities and access to facilities, equipment, and playing with my brothers in the backyard to be the best athlete I could be.

smell of natural gas, piped from the big metal tank in the backyard, filled once a month by a truck.

in the mortal world, there are such things as backyards. Here, there are forest and sea, rocks and mazes, flowers that are red only when they get fresh blood.

In Canada, you can't even have a barbecue in your backyard without being attacked by a moose or even a grizzly bear. Then again, the grizzlies don't beat anyone here in Vancouver; oh, it's true, it's true.

I was raised by vegan parents, and we ate out of my backyard garden for my whole life.

A mockingbird has moved into our neighborhood. It perches atop a telephone pole behind our backyard. Every morning it is the first thing I hear. It is impossible to be unhappy when listening to a mockingbird. So stuffed with songs it is, it can't seem to make up it's mind which to sing first, so it sings them all, a dozen different songs at once, in a dozen different voices. On and on it sings without a pause, so peppy, even frantic, as if its voice alone is keeping the world awake.

I want to build a studio in my backyard. The interest rates are low now, so who knows.

When you enter a beloved novel many times, you can come to feel that you possess it, that nobody else has ever lived there. You try not to notice the party of impatient tourists trooping through the kitchen (Pnin a minor scenic attraction en route to the canyon Lolita), or that shuffling academic army, moving in perfect phalanx, as they stalk a squirrel around the backyard (or a series of squirrels, depending on their methodology).

Don't be afraid to challenge the pros, even in their own backyard.

I'd lie with the moonlight angling through the backyard maple to cast a fretwork of shadows on the wall and remember the ghost of my old fears, although I no longer saw the shadows as the skeletal hands of a beast come to claim my soul

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT this statement? "A backyard bird feeder will help take the stress out of your life." A friend of mine uses that line to promote her birding shop in Barnegat, New Jersey. It's warm, appealing, and will, with luck, help her turn a lot of people on to birding. However, with no offense to my friend, stress-free bird feeding falls into the same category as painless dentistry.

My happiest childhood memories are of times in our backyard. My mother had an old clothesline that hung out in front. It seemed like it stretched a mile long, and I loved sitting in the sun while she hung clothes.

After the rain ended, I tried my new trick with the dog door again, and sure enough, I was out in the backyard for a second time. I dug a hole, chewed the hose, and barked at Smokey, who was sitting in a window and pretending not to notice me. When a large yellow bus pulled up in front of the house, Ethan and several more neighborhood kids, including Chelsea, tumbled out. I jumped up to put my paws against the fence, and the boy ran to me, laughing.

I instantly connected with the sport and I have fond memories of growing up on my skating rink that my dad made for us in our backyard.

Beyond the slumpstone wall lay a backyard, a swimming pool. Dappled with morning light and tree shadows, the water glimmered in shades of blue from sapphire to turquoise, as might a trove of jewels left by long-dead pirates who had sailed a sea since vanished.

The McDonalds went out back and were fortunate