I put my forehead on his collarbone, place one hand on his chest. Its rhythm reassures me: He is real, and he is now.
In March 1853 she was afflicted with a pain in the chest; her tongue seemed to be covered with a film; leeches failed to make her breathing any easier.
He scooped me up and suddenly I was pressed against his chest. “Were you worried about me?” "No, I’m ranting for fun, because I’m a disagreeable bitch!
A fierce hand gripped my chest, squeezing my lungs. No. it wasn't my lungs. It was my heart. It was breaking. Wasn't I stronger than this?
I glanced at Derek. The boy wonder didn't melt into a pile of goo, although his gaze was glued to Rowena's chest. Avoiding eye contact. Good strategy.
She looked herself in the eyes and saw that there was nothing left. No sense. It must have gone through that hole in her chest along with everything else.
Present a man with the opportunity to earn shiny medals to pin on his chest, and he’ll eagerly risk dying to try to get them.
She pushed my chest like she wanted me off of her, but her fingers had my shirt clutched in them and I knew she was full of shit. She wanted me.
Fifteen men on the Dead Man's Chest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
If a man wanted to put the entire universe in his breast, he couldn't do it with his chest stuck out.
This is how most stories end in the hospital. Not with crash carts and sirens and electric shocks to the chest, but with an empty room, a crisp white bed, silence.
You're something, alright." I laughed into his bare chest, my eyes closing. "I'm your something..." His voice trailed off into a wisper as I drifted off.
Your dead cat would look great on my t-shirt—along with tire tracks on my chest. What better time is there to love than now?
The Mythical Mr. Boo has several eagle feathers, or “Freedom Feathers,” as he likes to call them, that he staples to his chest in protest of any kind of bloodshed.
My heartbeat’s so loud it’s like a tap dancer in my chest. No, it’s more like Mr. Morse, tapping out the code of love.
He searched for my gaze and the second he found it, I cracked a smile. “There it is.” He palmed his chest again and sighed. “All is right in the world again.
Rage and hurt coalesce into a stone in my chest and as I take another gulp of my father's prized whiskey, I hear myself say, "Tell me about your plan.
I couldn’t control my heart as it thumped out of control in my chest, insistent on remindin’ me that it was still in there. That it was still beating. For damn Archer Beaufait.
Though I had no respect for Jack Lewis, I respected the hole in his chest. He was dying, and you owe the dying your attention.
Well, well, well," said Aitch Dee, his arms folded across his chest. "Well, well, well, well," replied Pavel, not to be out welled.
My best has to be for Barcelona against Villarreal in 2006 - that is the one I am asked most about, and it is the one I am most proud of. Xavi chipped the ball to me, I chested it down, twisted and hit an overhead kick. It was the final goal in a 4-0...
