The cool thing about vests is they have no sleeves. I guess their target market is people with no arms. Raise your hand if you disagree.
Birdy never felt artistic inclination when armed with a marking implement. What came to her were words, always words, commentary and criticism and correction and simple vocabulary curios; she scratched a few of them on the smooth red wall.
Who wears masks?’ ‘Bank robbers?’ ‘No.’ ‘Really ugly people?’ ‘No.’ ‘Halloween? People wear masks at Halloween.’ ‘Yes! They do!’ He flung his arms wide in delight. ‘So that’s important?’ ‘Not even a little bit. But i...
norris didn't cry, but he was apt to puke on them, the way he had puked on homer gamache that time he had found homer sprawled in a ditch out by homeland cemetary, beaten to death with his own artificial arm.
This new day has greeted us with no rules; unconditional opportunity. Do not dilute the power of this new day with the hardship of yesterday. Greet this day the way it has greeted you; with open arms and endless possibility.
I gather the last remnants of the evening’s breeze, so cool and lazy within my arms, feeling it curl up like a small and innocent kitten.
You’ll pardon me,” he finally said, “if the suggestion that the minuscule black turnip you call a heart is suddenly overflowing with generosity toward me leaves me wanting to arm myself and put my back against a wall.
Poseidon held out his arms and gave me a hug. I realized, a little embarrassed, that I'd never actually hugged my dad before. He was warm—like a regular human—and he smelled of a salty beach and fresh sea air.
Annabeth came up to me. She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the Internet, whichever came first.
As they left the restaurant and mounted the stairs he looped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him, willing her to love him as much as he loved her. Even a fraction of the amount would be enough.
Finally, his whole body burst into flames and as the pain became unbearable, he threw his arms in the air and screamed in agony. In his final moments, the words of the Nazarene echoed through his mind: 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Sham Harga had run a successful eatery for many years by always smiling, never extending credit, and realizing that most of his customers wanted meals properly balanced between the four food groups: sugar, starch, grease, and burnt crunchy bits.
The Patrician of Ankh-Morpork sat back on his austere chair with the sudden bright smile of a very busy person at the end of a crowded day who's suddenly found in his schedule a reminder saying: 7.00-7.05, Be Cheerful and Relaxed and a People Person.
Arabella dangled her legs out of the bedroom window and closed her eyes. She felt a butterfly brush against her knee, rubbed her skin against the mortar and bricks, drank in the warmth of the morning sunshine on her face, her arms, her feet.
Do you mind? Just drape your arm around her shoulder. That's it. Yes this is good, Mr.Henshaw. Getting your picture taken with Daphne is a great way to introduce you to our set. Welcome to Santa Lucia!
If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots Remember That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms And my roots will set off to seek anoth...
Wrapped up in the music, I threw myself into an overstuffed chair and let my legs dangle over the arm, the position in which Nature intended music to be listened to, and for the first time in days I felt the muscles in my neck relaxing.
Demons were said to be cruel, but a demon would never have been so brutal as this. A demon merely called you by name, threw his arms around you, whispered his plight, understood yours, then took you for his own.
Would you agree," he said, "that man's sole duty is to produce as much pleasure as possible?" "Only if the pleasure produced is equivalent to the diminution of pain." My father crossed his arms. "And only if one man's pleasure is as important as any ...
When was the last time someone read aloud to you? Probably when you were a child, and if you think back, you'll remember how safe you felt, tucked under the covers, or curled in someone's arms, as a story was spun around you like a web.
Fuck, babe,” Chocolate Eyes said, stepping forward. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet off the tiled floor. “You look like crap...worse, actually.” He wiped her tears with the calloused pad of his thumb. “You want to get out of thi...
