Let him go and come freely, let him touch real things and combine his impressions for himself, instead of sitting indoors at a little round table, while a sweet-voiced teacher suggests that he build a stone wall with his wooden blocks, or make a rainbow out of strips of coloured paper, or plant straw trees in bead flower-pots.
Undoubtedly, in this case, what is true for one is truer still for a thousand, as a large house is not proportionally more expensive than a small one, since one roof may cover, one cellar underlie, and one wall separate several apartments.
A medallion of Homer hangs on the wall of my study, conveniently low, so that I can easily reach it and touch the beautiful, sad face with loving reverence.
"I think your mother would nail my hide to the wall," he responded as he finished putting his belt on.
Paintings hung on every wall and expensive looking pottery lamps with hand painted shades gave the room a warm glow.
Removing his hands from the wall, he placed them on her shoulders, pulling her closer.
Finally he pushed away from the wall and crossed to the table.
She tried to resist the desire that ransacked her body, but his lips and hands broke down every wall she built - shut off every avenue of escape until she no longer wanted to escape... until she no longer questioned his love.
He's climbing a tree next to the wall... he fell... he's up again... and over.
After banging a shin on the low stone wall that encircles the flagstone patio, I finally reached the back door.
"Dealing with you is like beating my head against a brick wall!" she snapped.
Her gaze moved from the incredible view to the condo's owner, whose desk sat against the wall opposite her beside the windows.
She waited until she was certain he was distracted before she crept across the apartment, keeping as close to the wall farthest from him as possible.
She squinted through her fingers and braced herself against one wall to counter the effects the drugs had on her equilibrium as she moved down the long hallway.
When he returned, he pulled a chair from the wall nearer her and dipped one cloth in water, tugging her arm away from her.
This appeared so unexpectedly that they were unprepared to take advantage of it at first, and allowed the rocky wall to swing around again before they had decided to pass over.
As the conversation began to assume a loftier and grander tone, we gradually shoved our chairs farther apart till they touched the wall in opposite corners, and then commonly there was not room enough.
These men pressed close to the wall to let Pierre and Anna Mikhaylovna pass and did not evince the least surprise at seeing them there.
Her own words bounced off the wall and came back as a flash of memory and imagination.
Adrienne grabbed a large stainless steel spoon from its hanger on the wall and primped at her distorted reflection.
About 10 feet back into the cave water oozed from the wall, slowly dripping into a small rock pool.
I must have made a sound as my stomach again roiled and I grabbed the wall to steady myself.
She took in his wounds again, unable to fathom why her father would chain him to the wall in their wine cellar.
She leaned her head against the shower wall, exhausted.
Let into the wall was a star-shaped light.
There was a barber shop and I could see a calendar on the wall but I couldn't quite read it.
Martha glanced at the wall clock.
He was putting up a framed twenty dollar bill on the wall next to a picture of him with the president.
She glanced at antique school house clock on the kitchen wall, a recent purchase.
I tried to remain inconspicuous as I leaned against a back wall, my mind still in turmoil.
We braced our ladder against the wall and played a game of numbers to see who would the first to climb.
The walls were all on fire and the back wall had fallen in, the wooden roof was collapsing, and the rafters were alight.
Princess Mary's heart beat so violently at this news that she grew pale and leaned against the wall to keep from falling.
She lay on the sofa with her face to the wall, fingering the buttons of the leather cushion and seeing nothing but that cushion, and her confused thoughts were centered on one subject--the irrevocability of death and her own spiritual baseness, which she had not suspected, but which had shown itself during her father's illness.
Through a gap in the broken wall he could see, beside the wooden fence, a row of thirty year-old birches with their lower branches lopped off, a field on which shocks of oats were standing, and some bushes near which rose the smoke of campfires-- the soldiers' kitchens.
Several soldiers gathered by the wall of the trench, looking out to see what was happening in front.
Pierre looked over the wall of the trench and was particularly struck by a pale young officer who, letting his sword hang down, was walking backwards and kept glancing uneasily around.
"Grapeshot!" the senior shouted, without answering the question, looking over the wall of the trench.
He saw the senior officer lying on the earth wall with his back turned as if he were examining something down below and that one of the soldiers he had noticed before was struggling forward shouting "Brothers!" and trying to free himself from some men who were holding him by the arm.
By the wall of China-Town a smaller group of people were gathered round a man in a frieze coat who held a paper in his hand.
Two men in peasant coats ran away at the foot of the wall, toward the Znamenka.
Sitting silent and motionless on a heap of straw against the wall, Pierre sometimes opened and sometimes closed his eyes.