His shoes were covered with mud; he had torn his coat on the thorny tree.
He was not going very fast, but on his flanks specks of foam began to appear and at times he would tremble like a leaf.
He was, in fact, making this soup, his favorite dish.
But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist--I really believe he is Antichrist--I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself!
Next to Washington he was the greatest American.
In any event, King Croesus had it in his mind to wage war against the Persians, so he asked the oracle: "Should I attack the Persians?"
He stooped and picked up a bird's nest that had fallen upon the ground.
Next to his family he loved his dogs and gun.
"Of course," he replied.
And Croesus was so amazed that he endowed the Oracle at Delphi with all kinds of gifts and planned to run all-important questions by this oracle.
He married Lucy Helen Everett, who belonged to the same family of Everetts as Edward Everett and Dr. Edward Everett Hale.
But in the excitement of carrying me to church my father lost the name on the way, very naturally, since it was one in which he had declined to have a part.
It was true, and it brought color to his neck, but he didn't comment.
Jim's ears were standing erect upon his head and every muscle of his big body was tense as he trotted toward home.
She had the most expressive face he had ever seen.
The speech he gave in September 1962, announcing that goal, spent a good amount of time justifying the expense and explaining the urgency.
When the Civil War broke out, he fought on the side of the South and became a brigadier-general.
He was a great hunter, I have been told, and a celebrated shot.
To the bison of the prairie it is a few inches of palatable grass, with water to drink; unless he seeks the Shelter of the forest or the mountain's shadow.
He reached the edge of the tall roof, stepped one foot out into the air, and walked into space as calmly as if he were on firm ground.
"I wouldn't dare try," he said.
He leaped into the saddle, and away he dashed with his officers close behind him.
He had done one good deed.
He turned onto Franz Josef Street, where he was not supposed to have been, and drove right in front of a surprised Princip.
So he commissioned seven emissaries to go out to seven certain oracles around the world and on a predetermined day, let's say July 12, at a predetermined time, say 3:00 p.m.
I was greatly puzzled to know what he was doing.
How can he remember well his ignorance--which his growth requires--who has so often to use his knowledge?
When a man is warmed by the several modes which I have described, what does he want next?
Count Rostov's mouth watered with pleasure and he nudged Pierre, but Pierre wanted to speak himself.
He parked the truck in front of the house and headed down the hill.
He made it all sound so innocent - even noble.
Count Ilya Rostov, in a military uniform of Catherine's time, was sauntering with a pleasant smile among the crowd, with all of whom he was acquainted.
He too approached that group and listened with a kindly smile and nods of approval, as he always did, to what the speaker was saying.
The nobility don't gwudge theah lives--evewy one of us will go and bwing in more wecwuits, and the sov'weign" (that was the way he referred to the Emperor) "need only say the word and we'll all die fo' him!" added the orator with animation.
He pushed forward, feeling stirred, but not yet sure what stirred him or what he would say.
Evidently accustomed to managing debates and to maintaining an argument, he began in low but distinct tones:
He hardened his heart against the senator who was introducing this set and narrow attitude into the deliberations of the nobility.
(He was well acquainted with the senator, but thought it necessary on this occasion to address him formally.)
But scarcely had Pierre uttered these words before he was attacked from three sides.
"Yes, and this is not a time for discussing," he continued, "but for acting: there is war in Russia!
"We will all arise, every one of us will go, for our father the Tsar!" he shouted, rolling his bloodshot eyes.
He felt that his words, apart from what meaning they conveyed, were less audible than the sound of his opponent's voice.