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Letter "R" » ribbed
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«I wish Adam had died with all ribs in his body»
«I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like my ribs, my kidneys, my liver, my heart. Like my blood. It was a force already within me when I arrived on the scene. It was a necessity for me-like food or water.»
«You see, dear, it is not true that woman was made from man's rib; she was really made from his funny bone»
Author: James Matthew Barrie
(Dramatist, Novelist)
| About:
Women
| Keywords:
bone, funny bone, rib, ribbed
«If I really got my ribs removed, I would have been busy sucking my own dick on the wonder years instead of chasing winnie cooper. Besides, I wouldn't have sucked other people's dicks on stage, either. I would have been sucking my own. Plus, who really has time to be killing puppies when you can be sucking your own dick? I think I'm gonna call the surgeon in the morning.»
«American grammar doesn't have the sturdiness of British grammar (a British advertising man with a proper education can make magazine copy for ribbed condoms sound like the Magna goddam Carta), but it has its own scruffy charm»
Author: Stephen King
(Writer)
| About:
America and Americans,
Grammar
| Keywords:
advertising copy, American Magazine, British, British and, charm, condom, condoms, copy, goddam, grammar, grammars, magazine, proper, rib, ribbed, scruffy, The Magazine
«The hills,Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, -- the valesStretching in pensive quietness between;The venerable woods -- rivers that moveIn majesty, and the complaining brooksThat make the meadows green; and, poured round all,Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, --Are but the solemn decorations allOf the great tomb of man.»
Author: William Cullen Bryant
(Writer)
| Keywords:
Brooks, complaining, decoration, decorations, Great River, majesty, meadows, move in, pensive, poured, quietness, rib, ribbed, rock-ribbed, solemn, tomb, vales, venerable
«Books, books, books had found the secret of a garret-room piled high with cases in my father's name; Piled high, packed large, /where, creeping in and out among the giant fossils of my past, like some small nimble mouse between the ribs of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there at this or that box, pulling through the gap, in heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, the first book first. And how I felt it beat under my pillow, in the morning's dark. An hour before the sun would let me read! My books!»
«The sound of a jet, an engine warming up, even the clopping of shod hooves on pavement brings on the ancient shudder, the dry mouth and vacant eye, the hot palms and the churn of stomach high up under the rib cage.»
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