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Updated: May 3, 2025
Without a good night's sleep, how were any of his ideas anything but minutely sensible at best? If anything was for pulling and clearing it was this weedy thicket of messy ideas in a landscape heavy in leanings toward sleep.
The sea, which is tame and messy in the artificial bay formed by the pier of Anzio, was fresh and rushing; the wind swept the brown dark sand like smoke along the ground. Monte Circeo was quite distinct, blue and white its summit an overhanging rock, no castle. Inland stretched the fields of asphodels and the deep woods.
The leaves were just enough developed to make a diaphanous lacework of green. It was like looking through a green-spangled arras to peer into the woods beyond or behind. The gray stones were already faintly messy where the water rippled and sparkled, and early birds were calling robins and blackbirds and wrens. "Baby mine," he said, "do you understand all about this?
He would keep his promise to Tess pray that something might come into her life if somebody went out. "Mother," said Teola, changing the subject abruptly, "why can't we have a toffy pull. I want one so badly." "It's such a messy thing," sighed Mrs. Graves, looking about upon the tidy home, "and not one of you young people can keep your sticky hands from the curtains and furniture.
Wheeler liked to feel that Claude was assisting this worthy pair in their struggle for an education; but he had long ago decided that since neither of the Chapins got anything out of their efforts but a kind of messy inefficiency, the struggle might better have been relinquished in the beginning.
"Not me," says I. "I'm too polite. But when you unload duplicates of the late Oliver Cromwell's writing-desk you ought to see that both don't go to friends of Colonel Brassle. Messy old party, the Colonel, and I understand he's tryin' to induce 'em to make trouble. Course, you might explain all that to Auntie; but in her present state of mind Eh? Must you be goin'? Any word to send up?
"I'm on a job, and I must do it. Came near being a messy ass!" He saw plainly enough that a mission such as his had no place in it for women even such women as Bibi-ya-chui. She must go back or stay here didn't matter much which. The call of duty sounded very clear. By the time he had reached the level of the upper plateau his mind was fully made up.
"Aren't you going to give me a little bit of dinner, Mrs. Craven?" "Oh, my dear young lady, but we live so plain!" "And so do I when I am at home," said Kathleen. "I do hate messy dishes. I like potatoes better than anything in the world. Often at home I go off with my boy cousins, and we have such a good feed. I think potatoes are better than anything in the world."
Passing on to the inner shrine we see a much-decorated screen, behind which an image is hidden, but we are not allowed to pull it aside. The room in which it stands is crowded with hideous figures, squat devils, grinning dragons, and other disagreeable forms. Before them are empty tin biscuit-boxes full of sand, in which are stuck messy little tapers.
I'm not excusing myself, I'm just telling you. There was something messy and disorderly about it all, about my life with her and with them. I couldn't stand it. I felt myself being submerged by something. I wanted to be orderly and to work, you see. I couldn't let violin making alone. Lord, how I tried tried bluffing myself about it calling it a fad."
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