In the course of some obscure ramblings a few weeks back I hacked through a low hedge to find a rather twisted coil much to my liking. The coil charged my thoughts for a time, which floated to gardens and their beautiful paths. Here is a small garden for your enjoyment, complete with said coil and remembrances (the rest are my own).
for the purist
Time flies like an arrow, unlike most other species.
He bugs me a lot, then studies the tapes to learn my technique.
The green dragon was too inexperienced to vanquish the knight.
Many think that it was his love of garden paths that led him to his nervous breakdown. Others think that it was the bee stings.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, or would you more prefer
(allusions to sonnet 18, its commonly misinterpreted meaning, and names of poetic eras)
If you build a man a fire, you keep him warm for a night. If you
set a man on fire, you keep him warm for the rest of his life.
(allusion to fire-building variation of Chinese proverb comparing giving someone a fish versus teaching that someone how to fish)
One often wonders whether 'tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune, or to save a bit and buy a hunting rifle.
(Surely you can get that piece? Some are missing, of course.)
from third grade
He's really strong, but [then] odor isn't everything.
And so as the roseate bits settle in the twilight over my little garden, I ramble off to find some lemons to help with the rust on my coils. An 'llusion is a terrible thing to waste!
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