A Quote by Miranda July

But, like ivy, we grow where there is room for us. — © Miranda July
But, like ivy, we grow where there is room for us.

Quote Topics

That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow But thinking of a wreath, . . . I like such ivy; bold to leap a height 'Twas strong to climb! as good to grow on graves As twist about a thyrsus; pretty too (And that's not ill) when twisted round a comb.
There comes a point at which you stop giving things up. That is what i won't give up. None of it will i give up, for my beautiful sister Ivy who lies in bed. Ivy who used to be alive. Ivy who used to be. Ivy who used. Ivy who. Ivy-who-is-not-me. Not me. Not me. Not me.
Raphael continued to stare at me, in no hurry to get started. "You know the best way to get rid of a demon, right?" He asked with a serious face. I caught Ivy rolling her eyes as I shook my head. "Exorcise alot!" Ivy caught my expression of dismay. "It's okay, Beth. He's famous for his bad jokes. We're still waiting for him to grow up." "And like Peter Pan, I hope to avoid that at all costs.
People believe that there's no room for change, there's no room to grow and if we're talking about this idea of God which is the infinite then there's no way that there's no room to grow because infinity is endless. So there must be more room to understand more and to evolve the way we think about this idea.
a laotong relationship is made by choice...when we first looked in each other's eyes in the palanquin I felt something special pass between us--like a spark to start a fire or a seed to grow rice. But a single spark is not enough to warm a room nor is a single seed enough to grow a fruitful crop. Deep love--true-heart love--must grow.
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
Romance and poetry, ivy, lichens and wallflowers need ruin to make them grow.
But I started it when I was going through a transitional time in my life. At the end of it, it really sort of symbolized it. I had made room to change, and room to grow. I recorded it in a little room.
I wouldn't have been sent back to help you," Tristan continued. "I wouldn't have been made an angel if it weren't important that you live, Ivy. I want you to be mine" -Ivy could hear the pain in his voice- "but you're not." "I am!" she cried out loud. "We're on different sides of a river," he said, "and it's a river that neither of us can cross. You were meant for somebody else.
Bad human communication leaves us less room to grow.
Why do we have to have people come from afar to come and grow food for us, or to grow food to sell to us? It is partly because we are almost becoming used to people doing things for us. Like somebody else is going to solve that problem for us. And that to me is very disempowering system.
I wish that every child could have growing space because I think children are a little like plants. If they grow too close together, they become thin and sickly and never obtain maximum growth. We need room to grow.
Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.
Rachel?” came Ivy’s voice from her room. “Where’s my sword?” “In the foyer where you left it last week when the evangelists were canvassing the neighborhood
[Ivy Wilkes] loves [Georgia] O'Keeffe's work, but is not satisfied by just looking at the paintings; she wants the painting to be her own. The plot grew naturally out of Ivy's personality (and flaws).
Can you at least tell us what these Sevens look like?" He said "could we pick one out in a crowd?" "A long time ago, they used to appear wearing robes and golden girtles," Ivy explained. "They sound like losers," Xavier muttered.
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