There are stacks and stacks of books at my house, trailing off the shelves, in nearly every room. I can’t imagine not having them, but sometimes people comment on how many books I own and I wonder if they are being judgmental.
The stacks of papers at my desk are piling up in exorbitant amounts. I no longer have any space for my computer, and as as result I have migrated to my bed to do my work.
The stacks piled up one by one, seeming bars of my dust laden prison, older than time, older than thought, older than everything. The dust cascaded, disturbed by what I knew not and danced in little eddies in the sunstreams by my feet, and I inhale sharply, and feel the dry dry dust rake my lungs.
William Wellington
A multiple amount of objects put on top of each other.
stacks.. you can have stacks of buiscuits, coins.. everything in stacks looks cool.. you can have agame to strike the stacks..
carrom board coins are also arranged in stacks… i guess that is all i can think about stacks..
aashri
Stacks. Stacks of money. Stocks of money makes the greedy man happy. Greedy man buys lots of useless things. Greedy man left with no stacks.
Bryanna
There were stacks of papers everywhere. All around me, all I saw was words. My words, your words, inspired by all the things we had gone through when we were apart, when we were together, when we knew it wouldn’t last. The stacks reminded me and that’s why the stacks had to leave.
The lamp shone steadily on the stacks of paper piled upon the desk, covered in neat lines of equations. The professor’s glasses dangled off the edge of the wood, and a laptop was placed haphazardly atop the nearest pile. The professor himself, of course, was asleep on top of the paper in front of him.
sara
I have a stack of papers waiting to be graded. I realize my students need me to give them feedback, and if I ignore the stacks, the stacks take on a life of their own and multiply. I bring this on to myself, but have no way to escape these stacks that always exist in my life, and demand so much of my time and attention.
i see luvle little chineese dolls an i bot a chinest tshirt with a big dragon ont and these we dol;ls meet me in the street an dey laff an say whos dat fella.
so to all the wee chineese wimmin i meet isend yee staks o luv xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
much obliged
Stacks of books in the library. Studying in the stacks. I’d love a stack of hot pancakes right bout now. With a lot of butter and syrup. And a side of scrambled eggs, sausage and bacon, with a piping hot cup of coffee
Nayo
herd o th bluestcks somewere. Methinks thes was mountains. Bluestakswerever u b i wish i was up ther on you
fellin the wind an enjoyin da view
seein the wild birs flyin in da sky
bluestaks o bluestasks yer i wish ye wer nigh
much obliged
i pile my emotions higher and higher.
the smallest books on the bottom, heaviest on top,
i carry them on my head like a proper lady,
they’re weighing heavy on my mind,
one day they will all come tumbling down.
Too high for me to count. They lay on the table like kitchen magazines that friends and family are too weird to throw away.
Too much green everywhere. Is this legal, probably not but it looks like we are in Vegas. Light trickles down from the broken lamb and illuminates the wadded dollar bills. Too much for me to count.
Deep in the stacks at night, she stole old books of poetry from the unused, unloved shelves on the 10th floor. She called it liberating, other should call it stealing, but she felt it a crime that the prose would be abandoned as such.
There they are. The sock with the hole from where our secrets slipped through. The shawl, still stained with your acid tears. The bra with the lipstick, telling scarlet tales. All there, even the ribbon that braided popcorn memories of childhood, in funny patterns. The wardrobe is a secret door to Wonderland. Come, let’s snuggle again under the soft blanket, like we used to, before love became a gash.
somtimes stacks are very tall and big but they are very wierd in sometimes there are big stacks and little stacks i like the big stacks better though shhh dont tell th little one
stacks of hay stacks of hay I like hay how bout you!:) so o golden hay stacks.
hay hay hay hay hay ha hay hay hay hay hay ahhhay hayh hay ayy ha.hahahahhaha i like hay hay is good for ya heath. hay
Millions of them! Stacks and stacks of books! They are all around me! I am in heaven! Ever book I can think of is here! Truly! I really don’t know what to think! Should I start here or there? Which stack? This is hard!
Books. Paper. Notes. School. Class. Teachers. Bad teachers. You can’t do anything about bad teachers. You have to accept what you get. Like free stuff. Or prizes. Or even news from the dentist. Accept it. Roll with the punches. Don’t take no for an answer. Always fight for what you believe in. Stacks of books have been written on this subject.
Stuart
She wandered through the library stacks, the scent of musty paper, ancient flaking glue, moth-eaten fabric, dust, wafting up. She ran her finger along the edges of the leathery bindings, feeling their age, wondering what secrets were trapped inside, sad in the knowledge that she would never have time to read them all, not in her four years here, not in a hundred.
stacks are wonderful things. They are lots, mountains. Also library books. What more could one want than stacks of library books. I love stacks. Stacks of bricks – so neat and tidy; stacks of rocks – so creative.
There are stacks and stacks of books at my house, trailing off the shelves, in nearly every room. I can’t imagine not having them, but sometimes people comment on how many books I own and I wonder if they are being judgmental.
things on top of eachother.
a multiple amount of items on top of eachother.
The stacks of papers at my desk are piling up in exorbitant amounts. I no longer have any space for my computer, and as as result I have migrated to my bed to do my work.
The stacks piled up one by one, seeming bars of my dust laden prison, older than time, older than thought, older than everything. The dust cascaded, disturbed by what I knew not and danced in little eddies in the sunstreams by my feet, and I inhale sharply, and feel the dry dry dust rake my lungs.
A multiple amount of objects put on top of each other.
A multiple amount of items on top of echother.
the stacks were taller than me. I looked up in awe! I felt so small compared to them. I wish I were tall, but sadly I am not.
stacks.. you can have stacks of buiscuits, coins.. everything in stacks looks cool.. you can have agame to strike the stacks..
carrom board coins are also arranged in stacks… i guess that is all i can think about stacks..
Stacks. Stacks of money. Stocks of money makes the greedy man happy. Greedy man buys lots of useless things. Greedy man left with no stacks.
There were stacks of papers everywhere. All around me, all I saw was words. My words, your words, inspired by all the things we had gone through when we were apart, when we were together, when we knew it wouldn’t last. The stacks reminded me and that’s why the stacks had to leave.
The lamp shone steadily on the stacks of paper piled upon the desk, covered in neat lines of equations. The professor’s glasses dangled off the edge of the wood, and a laptop was placed haphazardly atop the nearest pile. The professor himself, of course, was asleep on top of the paper in front of him.
I have a stack of papers waiting to be graded. I realize my students need me to give them feedback, and if I ignore the stacks, the stacks take on a life of their own and multiply. I bring this on to myself, but have no way to escape these stacks that always exist in my life, and demand so much of my time and attention.
i see luvle little chineese dolls an i bot a chinest tshirt with a big dragon ont and these we dol;ls meet me in the street an dey laff an say whos dat fella.
so to all the wee chineese wimmin i meet isend yee staks o luv xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Stacks of books in the library. Studying in the stacks. I’d love a stack of hot pancakes right bout now. With a lot of butter and syrup. And a side of scrambled eggs, sausage and bacon, with a piping hot cup of coffee
herd o th bluestcks somewere. Methinks thes was mountains. Bluestakswerever u b i wish i was up ther on you
fellin the wind an enjoyin da view
seein the wild birs flyin in da sky
bluestaks o bluestasks yer i wish ye wer nigh
i pile my emotions higher and higher.
the smallest books on the bottom, heaviest on top,
i carry them on my head like a proper lady,
they’re weighing heavy on my mind,
one day they will all come tumbling down.
Too high for me to count. They lay on the table like kitchen magazines that friends and family are too weird to throw away.
Too much green everywhere. Is this legal, probably not but it looks like we are in Vegas. Light trickles down from the broken lamb and illuminates the wadded dollar bills. Too much for me to count.
Deep in the stacks at night, she stole old books of poetry from the unused, unloved shelves on the 10th floor. She called it liberating, other should call it stealing, but she felt it a crime that the prose would be abandoned as such.
There they are. The sock with the hole from where our secrets slipped through. The shawl, still stained with your acid tears. The bra with the lipstick, telling scarlet tales. All there, even the ribbon that braided popcorn memories of childhood, in funny patterns. The wardrobe is a secret door to Wonderland. Come, let’s snuggle again under the soft blanket, like we used to, before love became a gash.
somtimes stacks are very tall and big but they are very wierd in sometimes there are big stacks and little stacks i like the big stacks better though shhh dont tell th little one
stacks of hay stacks of hay I like hay how bout you!:) so o golden hay stacks.
hay hay hay hay hay ha hay hay hay hay hay ahhhay hayh hay ayy ha.hahahahhaha i like hay hay is good for ya heath. hay
cookies can be stacked in stacks. Books can be in stacks. what if you put cats in stacks?
stacks
stacks are piles of stuff that you pile on top of each other mostley paper sometimes stacks are tall or small
i have stacks of oreos that i like to eat and they are in my yellow kitchen cause i love oreos sooooooooooo much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
there were stacks of blocks on top of the shelf in the room.
Millions of them! Stacks and stacks of books! They are all around me! I am in heaven! Ever book I can think of is here! Truly! I really don’t know what to think! Should I start here or there? Which stack? This is hard!
A stack of books in my room about the word stacks.
i had stacks and stacks of homework i had to do last night
stacks of homework are sitting on my desk and i need a frappuchino because i am tired.
i stack up the many stacks and bails of hay for my horses
there are stacks of books in each classroom.
the stack wood in there back yard afterschool.
i like to stack the chocolate bars in a stack i love to stack things.
there was a stack of bricks. the END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THERE ARE LARGE PANCAKE STACK ON PEOPLES PLATES.
Books. Paper. Notes. School. Class. Teachers. Bad teachers. You can’t do anything about bad teachers. You have to accept what you get. Like free stuff. Or prizes. Or even news from the dentist. Accept it. Roll with the punches. Don’t take no for an answer. Always fight for what you believe in. Stacks of books have been written on this subject.
She wandered through the library stacks, the scent of musty paper, ancient flaking glue, moth-eaten fabric, dust, wafting up. She ran her finger along the edges of the leathery bindings, feeling their age, wondering what secrets were trapped inside, sad in the knowledge that she would never have time to read them all, not in her four years here, not in a hundred.
stacks are wonderful things. They are lots, mountains. Also library books. What more could one want than stacks of library books. I love stacks. Stacks of bricks – so neat and tidy; stacks of rocks – so creative.
I have stacks of paper on the shelf in my closet. She stacks all the hay neatly outside the barn. He stacks his application papers on the desk.