As soon as I got out there I felt a strange relationship with the pitcher's mound. It was as if I'd been born out there. Pitching just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Striking out batters was easy.
The clear stars before him took to shuddering and he knew why; they shuddered at sight of what was behind him. He had never divined before that strange Things hid themselves from men, under pretence of being snow-clad mounds of swaying trees; but now...
The Captain, so close as he was, didn’t warrant their attention. Even a fly on a horse’s hindquarters gets a tail whip. And that is the thick of it. We are less than flies to these foul foes.
I have really sinned. I am going to pause now, and sit here on the mound repenting in deepest shame...
Drooling over an African figure that I could never have, I feasted my eyes upon the swaying mounds of my fellow African sisters.
In the White House, you can be on the pitcher's mound or you can be in the catcher's position. Put points on the board. Show people you can govern. Deliver on what you said you were going to deliver on.
Winter in the country is very white. There is black grit on all the shoulders of the roads and on the big mounds from the plows, and all the cars are filthy, but the fields are dazzling and untouched and pristine.
What makes big boobs and perkiness so attractive to boys? I mean, really. Two round, mounds of fat and a fake smile. Yeah, winning attributes.
I love being out there on the mound with the ball in my hand. I can control the game. I'm out there. No clock - nothing happens until I throw that thing. Nothing happens. I love that feeling.
She once again thought about how badly she wanted to crawl back beneath the mound of already cooling blankets that covered her bed like an inviting nest.
Whilst the wolflets bayed, A grave was made, And then with the strokes of a silver spade, It was filled to make a mound. And for two cold days and three long nights, The father tended that holy plot; And stayed by where his wife was laid, In the grav...
When your livelihood depends on self-imposed productivity, you either get good at it or you find yourself in mounds of debt.
There's very few pitching coaches that I worked with that actually came out on the mound and told me what I was doing wrong with the knuckleball. Because they just didn't know. So I had to figure it out. I was on my own.
When I walked out on the mound, I felt enclosed. You see, I'd been used to playing on pastures, where when somebody hit a ball you had to stop it from rolling. Well, this field had fences around it.
I think I rushed and I needed more time with my comeback. I needed more time to get my legs stronger to be able to handle the workload. You can only train for that by pitching innings. You can't simulate pitching off a mound in a game inside a weight...
People ask me what I do in my spare time, and I look at them blankly, truly believing that I don't even have spare time, and if I did, I'd probably use it for something mundane, like chipping away at the mound of laundry rising to dangerous proportio...
Ray Kinsella: See if you can hit my curve. [Shoeless Joe lines the next pitch back through the box, knocking Ray off the mound] Ray Kinsella: Yeah. Yeah, you can hit the curve ball.
Those who are ignorant of Geology, find no difficulty in believing that the world was made as it is; and the shepherd, untutored in history, sees no reason to regard the green mounds which indicate the site of a Roman camp, as aught but part and parc...
It is a slightly arresting notion that if you were to pick yourself apart with tweezers, one atom at a time, you would produce a mound of fine atomic dust, none of which had ever been alive but all of which had once been you.
They were obviously headstones of graves, though the graves themselves no longer existed as either mounds or depressions; the years had leveled all. Scattered here and there, more massive blocks showed where some pompous or ambitious monument had onc...
Books on the bookshelves And stacked on the floor Books kept in baskets And propped by the door Books in neat piles And in disarray Books tucked in closets And books on display Books filling crannies And books packed in nooks Books massed in windows ...
