Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Monkstown. 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 Monkstown Quotes And Sayings by 95 Authors including Julia Scheeres,Jennifer L. Armentrout,Kano,Neal Stephenson,L.m. Montgomery for you to enjoy and share.
This here is: JESUS LAND
Charleston, West "by gods" Virginia
London, London, London town,
You can toughen up or get thrown around.
There is a certain kind of small town that grows like a boil on the ass of every Army base in the world.
Kingsport or feel at home there. Before
Bagby Hot Springs.
NEW MILFORD, CONNECTICUT
on the outskirts of Johnson
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained.
To happy convents, bosomed deep in vines,
Where slumber abbots, purple as their wines.
Alfriston is a compact village set around a rather traffic-weary High Street, mainly of old, timbered buildings. The principal sights lie to the east on the river side.
Ludlow ... is probably the loveliest town in England with its hill of Georgian houses ascending from the river Teme to the great tower of the cross-shaped church, rising behind a classic market building.
My imagination is a monastery, and I am its monk
Danzhol. The one with the marriage proposal and the objections to the town charter in central Monsea. "Bacon," Bitterblue muttered. "Bacon!" she repeated, then carefully made her way up the spiral stairs.
The Houselands. Graveyard to the ones
who got locked out. A chill ran up London's spine. What the hell
were they doing?
All is lost! Monks, Monks, Monks! So, now all is gone - Empire, Body, and Soul!.
A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe.
Brownsville, having missed their road and wandered in the
Chrysanthemum
Silence - monk
Sips his morning tea.
the wizard prison,
A town so suffocating and small, you tripped over people you hated every day. People who knew things about you. It's the kind of place that leaves a mark.
The Rue du Coq d'Or, Paris, seven in the morning.
If we tire of the saints, Shakspeare is our city of refuge.
The Forest of Dean. Here we lived in one of a row of small stone cottages with trees stretching over us like children doing ghost impressions with their hands, surrounded by closed coal mines slowly getting zipped back up into the earth.
Greenwich Village ... the village of low rents and high arts.
The only place that's holier than St. Andrews is Westminster Abbey.
Let's build a town where
This is the city of disguises.
Town VIII. Monseigneur in the Country IX. The Gorgon's Head
A merchant came by a few years ago - he told me there was a mortal High King who had set himself up there. But I heard a whisper on the wind recently that said he'd been deposed by a young woman with wine-red hair who now calls herself their High Queen.
Mint-street and Kent-street--those old plague-spots that disgrace and disfigure the fair face of the Borough of Southwark--teem with blackguardism and vice; but here, too, you find that the birds who here flock are strictly of a feather. Cow-cross,
The name of the Slough was Despond.
I feel drawn to little temples on lonely hilltops. With the mist swirling round them, and the wind humming in the stunted pines, they absorb some of the magic and mystery of their surroundings and transmit it to the questing pilgrim.
Few things are more pleasant than a village graced with a good church, a good priest and a good pub.
Mulberry Garden, now the only place of refreshment about the town for persons of the best quality to be exceeding cheated at.
Let but thy wicked men from out thee go,
And all the fools that crowd thee so,
Even thou, who dost thy millions boast,
A village less than Islington wilt grow,
A solitude almost.
He, Cromwell, says to his visitors, just tell them this, and tell them loud: to each monk, one bed: to each bed, one monk. Is that so hard for them?
neighborhood, the place I left each
I grew up Windlesham in Surrey, which is a beautiful and quaint village.
Nabadwip, a centre of piety and learning consecrated to the memory of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu - saint, mystic, and devotee of Sri Krishna.
Center Japantown Union
In one of the Welsh counties is a small village called A
. It is somewhat removed from the high road, and is, therefore, but little known to those luxurious amateurs of the picturesque, who view nature through the windows of a carriage and four.
If monks are crazy to live the way they do, maybe the world needs more such craziness, what Matthew Kelty has termed 'the madness of great love.' My narrow world had just opened wide, and I had glimpsed such a love.
THE ADVENTURE OF THE ABBEY GRANGE
the base of the cliff. All
Queers make the best monks.
We can appreciate but not really understand the medieval town. We cannot comprehend its compactness, the contiguity of all its buildings as a single uninterrupted whole.
I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
When I was a boy in Desuq, Egypt, a city on the Rosetta branch of the Nile, about 50 miles east of Alexandria, my family lived steps away from the local landmark, a mosque named for a 13th-century Sufi sheik.
Well, little old Noisyville-on-the Subway is good enough for me.
Over the bowls of memory where every hollow holds a hallow
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
This town is filled with echoes. It's like they were trapped behind the walls, or beneath the cobblestones. When you walk you feel like someone's behind you, stepping in your footsteps.
Fox Creek Road. Such a simple, unassuming name for this place where destiny's going to go down. Now I know the where. And the who, and the what. All I have to figure out is the when. And the why.
On the Jellicoe road
Into the center - Queen's Square. This is the heart of Wolverhampton's youth scene - our Left Bank, our Haight-Ashbury, our Soho. To the right, five skaters. To the left, three goths, sitting around the Man On 'Is 'Oss - a statue of a man, on his horse.
At a guess I'll guarantee to lead you to thirty or forty alleys and networks of alleys north of Prince Street that aren't suspected by ten living beings outside of the foreigners that swarm them.
Land of lost gods and godlike men.
Where the underworld can meet the elite, Forty-Second Street.
Near the lake where drooped the willow, Long time ago!
An ugly, lovely town ... crawling, sprawling ... by the side of a long and splendid curving shore. This sea-town was my world.
Up the well known creek
if you can speak of a center in a city whose tongues of land stretch through hills and lick the sea. Seen
How strange it is to view a town you grew up in, not in wonderment through the eyes of youth, but with the eyes of a historian on the way things were.
This place looks like the last scene in Hamlet.
12 Arnold Grove, Merseyside.
Goldsboro, North Carolina.
No mountain of doom,
Just foothills of Ferninand.
Towers of fire and glory as far as one can see.
that dwelling was named Menegroth, the Thousand Caves.
Thomasville, North Carolina. A
I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
Soldiers fear the frontier post, monks fear the Surangama Dharani!
Peaceful and kind one monk is more valuable than violent and rude ten thousand men!
somewhere in the mountains with two
Beauty, grace, and charm my foot. It's a school for sadists with good tea-serving skills.
What place is so rugged and so homely that there is no beauty; if you only have a sensibility to beauty?
Bray is where I live; it's a seaside resort. It's a nice place to walk up there and stuff, on the coast. There's crosses along on top of it.
Things happen in these kinds of towns that could never happen anywhere else - proud, poor kids make things happen with more heat, and intensity, and attack, than could ever be managed somewhere with pleasant villages or well-tended gardens.
Did you ever hear of a place called Sphoe?
The first thing to do,' said Psmith, 'is to ascertain that such a place as Clapham Common really exists. One has heard of it, of course, but has its existence ever been proved? I think not.
This was a townscape raised in the teeth of cold winds from the east; a city of winding cobbled streets and haughty pillars; a city of dark nights and candlelight, and intellect.
Gods blast it, I was asking ye where you shite in the city, not where I should do it!
I used to spend my holidays there in my grandparents' large family house, with my numerous cousins. When I die, I am going to be buried in the village cemetery.
Abandoned mill that
Monastic contemplatives have staked out a clearly limited area to be transformed by contemplation: the monastery. Lay contemplatives face the challenge of transforming the whole world.
It is a naked city. Faith is not pampered, nor hope encouraged; there is no place to lay one's exhaustion: but instead pinnacles skewer it undisguised against vacancy.
It's a bad town unless you're on top of it
THE ADVENTURE OF THE PRIORY SCHOOL
On the sidewalk, dead leaves. Or burned pages from an old Gaffiot dictionary. It's the neighborhood of colleges and convents.
Ireland?" "Small wet place across the Irish Sea," Barry offered kindly. "Where they drink a lot?" Lisa said faintly. "And they never stop talking. That's the place.
In a village of La Mancha,
I don't want to see another church; the smell of the places makes me sick. Stale incense, old sweat, and lies ...
In the Hills, the Cities
This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream?
There are too many people for this town. - China, about Roarhaven
mansion that sits upon a hill just outside the sleepy little
You ask what I have found and far and wide I go,
Nothing but Cromwell's house and Cromwell's murderous crew,
The lovers and the dancers are beaten into the clay,
And the tall men and the swordsmen and the horsemen where are they?
Where the most beautiful wild flowers grow, there mans spirit is fed and poets grow.
The problem with monasteries, ashrams, convents is these institutions become extremely political. In other words, they're really small societies, and much of what you hope to avoid in societies you find there.
The heart of Casterly Rock. Remember the fate of Rhaegar's children." She saw the fear in his young eyes then, but there was a strength as well. "Then I will not lose,
the Dew-Drop Inn & Fishing Camp;