Because this is Upper Canada, after all, and 'caning' sounds more English than 'having ass whipped to death with hickory stick.
sometimes every word i write is 'love' but the letters are rearranged, the sounds are different. all the words are red.
Stop,” he murmured, or at least that’s what he meant to say. It came out sounding more like “Yes,” which probably wasn’t the same thing at all.
Fine, I'll touch you, briefly, but only because you sound like you need the praise that your body's hot, and I'm totally selfless like that.
First, I’m going to teach you how to Irish Whip someone.” “Oh, that sounds kinky. I want my safeword to be peaches,” I said, grinning.
Every body has their taste in noises as well as other matters; and sounds are quite innoxious, or most distressing, by their sort rather than their quantity.
May 29, the Central Committee of the Sections goes into “permanent session” — what a fine, crisis-ridden sound it has, that term!
Immortality was overrated, as far as he was concerned. Hardy had enough problems as it was; living forever sounded like a death sentence for someone with his practical sensibilities.
That doesn't sound like my Margo", she said, and I thought of my Margo, and all of us looking at her reflection in different funhouse mirrors.
A jet may be perfect for breaking the speed of sound, but a brick is designed to break the speed of silence. Just listen to that quietness.
The clouds blanketed the city, and the rain sounded like bricks hitting the roof. I hope my cat’s not still sleeping up there.
I might be half Derek's size, but I was the one who sounded like a two-hundred-pound beast plowing through the woods.
Then she sighed. Just the faintest, softest release of breath. The sound swept through his chest like a hurricane, with the force to topple trees.
Samuel finally understood the sound of the wind after all these years: The winds were a chorus of the prairie’s ever-present heartaches.
If you bulk order enough sound, you get a discount by volume. The guys in the warehouse know me by the codename Helen Keller.
We made love like flamingoes are pink. The lights were off, so I couldn’t actually see what color the flamingoes were, but they sounded pink.
I put out the Greg Call, which sounds like a whistle-quack, and a few dozen Toms responded. The only time I need a Tom is tomorrow.
After the prayer they executed an armed robbery. That sounds very strange this many years later: prayer and then armed robbery.
I ran a few miles, Davis, and they were musical. Then I made love like the sound of a trumpet, as heard by Helen Keller.
The sound of natural things was wonderful to us. In the middle of all the suffering, it seemed pure, untouched.
In speech he stretched out his vowel sounds to give his mouth a rest before the next consonant.
