Private Jackson: What I mean by that, sir, is if you was to put me and this here sniper rifle anywhere up to and including one mile from Adolf Hitler... with a clean line of sight... Pack your bags, fellas. War's over. Amen.
[Mr Parkin is sitting on his tractor with one leg wrapped from thigh to ankle in a plastic fertiliser bag. He winces as he stretches his leg] Marwood: What happened to your leg? Isaac Parkin: Got a randy bull up there. Gave it what it need.
Webs are made mostly of spaces. They break easily. They barely exist. They belong to the category of half-things: mist, smoke, shrouds, ghosts, membranes, retinas or rags; and they quickly fill up with un-things: old legs and wings and heads and holl...
Isn't it strange how princes and kings, and clowns that caper in sawdust rings, and common people, like you and me, are builders for eternity? Each is given a list of rules; a shapeless mass; a bag of tools. And each must fashion, ere life is flown, ...
The two sat quiet for a moment; Gabe unsure what to say to comfort his friend and Uri stewing in his own frustration. “Damn it! It was a stupid plan!” Uri swung an arm around behind himself and his bag being the nearest object in reach, swung it ...
This doesn't mean you're getting a discount." Audrey heaved a mock sigh. "Oh well. I guess I'll have to ply you with sexual favors, then." Gnome choked on the soup. "I'm old enough to be your grandfather!" Audrey winked at him, gathering the empty ba...
I blinked at the haul. "Are you planning to go to war? Sure you don't want to pack an assault riffle as well?" He looked up from the bag. "You have met yourself, right?" "So should I get a gun too?" "I'd fear the day.
A blanket could be used to trap and contain love. I’ve tried other stuff, like a Ziploc bag, a can of tuna, and even a dead cat’s stomach, but nothing seems to be able to hold it for very long.
Uh, puedo hablar con Andrew Nelson, por favor?" I asked, feeling like an idiot. "Quien?" "El americano," I explained. "Muy grande americano." In trying to describe my father, I sounded like I was ordering coffee. But it worked.
It doesn't matter if I'm only to be gone four days, as in this case; I take six months' supply of reading material everywhere. Anyone who needs further explication of this eccentricity can find it usefully set out in the first pages of W. Somerset Ma...
I stressed out trying to figure out what I could say. I ate licorice. I stressed some more. I ate Dots. I stressed out even more-and wiped out a bag of Swedish Fish. And then I wrote.
They had come for us in the night. Hey had come expecting a lot of blood. They had come with all their gear. Their rubber overshoes and their nylon bodysuits. Their knives, their hammer, their bag of nails. They had come to do a job on us, like they'...
Christopher throws dandelion head after dandelion head into his bag. It's getting heavy now and his fingers are stained from the work but there are still so many left to kill. His biggest mistake is giving them names.
I often find myself grateful for the comfort of strangers; a man who gave up his seat for me on the bus, a woman who helped me out with a heavy shopping bag. Remembering small acts of kindness puts the world in a finer, sweeter order.
We spread our sleeping bags on the snow and crawled inside. The vantage point was dizzying. It was impossible to tell whether the comet was above us or we were above the comet; we were all falling through space, missing the stars by inches.
So, Zed, isn’t this a killer outfit?” “Certainly a killer, baby.” “Good, because I’ve bought another five just like it.” “You horrible, teasing fairy. If you really have more of those fashion disasters in your bags, I’m gonna hang y...
I like my coffee like I like myself....making rustling noises inside a burlap bag
Why couldn't Jesus command us to obsess over everything, to try to control and manipulate people, to try not to breathe at all, or to pay attention, stomp away to brood when people annoy us, and then eat a big bag of Hershey's Kisses in bed?
If radios and microwaves merged, then the ideal pop song would be three minutes, or the length of time a bag of popcorn takes to finish popping. That’s about twice the length of my marriage, though in my defense the reason my marriage was so short ...
Social progress: for the same price as last year, I get a slimmer candy bar, less chips per bag, and I have to walk a little further to work, because to spend the same amount on gas I have to continuously park farther and farther away from the buildi...
I suppose I’ll have to clean up Freddy’s brains; I hate to leave a mess for the home owners. Hand me that plastic bag; I need to put it over his head to keep him from leaking. Oh, relax, Freddy; I’ll tear an airhole for you.” - Mercer
