They are all standing
awry, so much
awry that the chalets and cottages of the peasants seem to be tumbling down.
Not of alcoholics nor for alcoholics do I write, but for our youths, for those who possess no more than the adventure-stings and the genial predispositions, the social man-impulses, which are twisted all
awry by our barbarian civilisation which feeds them poison on all the corners.
His hat was gone and his clothes were
awry. He resembled a man who has come from bed to go to a fire.
Is the spike so low a thing as the rusty spike on the top of a post of an old bedstead that has tumbled all
awry? Some vague period of drowsy laughter must be devoted to the consideration of this possibility.
At this very moment everything is standing
awry to my eyes, for a man needs only to work late overnight in his writing of something or other for, in the morning, his eyes to be red, and the tears to be gushing from them in a way that makes him ashamed to be seen before strangers.
Marilla knew Anne too well to fear this; but she felt that something in the universal scheme of things had gone sadly
awry.
The raggedest nightcap,
awry on the wretchedest head, had this crooked significance in it: "I know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to destroy life in you?" Every lean bare arm, that bad been without work before, had this work always ready for it now, that it could strike.
Nathless now and again some luckless fellow would shoot
awry and would be sent winding from a long arm blow from the tall lieutenant while the glade roared with laughter.
Solid to the touch--for I put out my hand and felt the rail of it--and with brown spots and smears upon the ivory, and bits of grass and moss upon the lower parts, and one rail bent
awry.
Early one evening, struggling with a sonnet that twisted all
awry the beauty and thought that trailed in glow and vapor through his brain, Martin was called to the telephone.
But the indefinable weight the dead rabbits had left on her mind caused her to feel more than usual pity for the career of this weak young man, particularly when she looked at the picture where he leaned against a tree with a flaccid appearance, his knee-breeches unbuttoned and his wig
awry, while the swine apparently of some foreign breed, seemed to insult him by their good spirits over their feast of husks.
One was a map of the Pyncheon territory at the eastward, not engraved, but the handiwork of some skilful old draughtsman, and grotesquely illuminated with pictures of Indians and wild beasts, among which was seen a lion; the natural history of the region being as little known as its geography, which was put down most fantastically
awry. The other adornment was the portrait of old Colonel Pyncheon, at two thirds length, representing the stern features of a Puritanic-looking personage, in a skull-cap, with a laced band and a grizzly beard; holding a Bible with one hand, and in the other uplifting an iron sword-hilt.