Tammy was finally allowed to swim to her heart's content... apparently for the first time.
I have to drink a real lot to get a hangover, so, with no downsides and a whole lot of up, why wouldn't I drink to my heart's content, plus it tastes awesome and warms my soul.
You mean to tell me, if I could get my fangs to work, and your blood didn't give me third degree burns, I could feed to my heart's content without hurting you?
"My heart's in my mouth ever time it rings," she said and added an apology as she moved to answer it, just as Cynthia Byrne entered the room.
"Not if her heart's stopped," Eden said, pushing at his shoulder.
Napoleon, though he did not bar the door absolutely against such a proceeding, granted her her heart's desire by secretly going through a religious ceremony on the evening before the coronation.
During the troubles that ensued in Florence Catherine nearly lost her life in a popular tumult, and sorely regretted not winning her heart's desire, "the red rose of martyrdom."
Bleeding from an artery is of a bright red colour, and escapes from the end of the vessel nearest the heart in jets synchronous with the heart's beat.
Natural arrest of haemorrhage arises from (I) the coagulation of the blood itself, (2) the diminution of the heart's action as in fainting, (3) changes taking place in the cut vessel causing its retraction and contraction.
The heart's action is quickened.
He was lionized in London to his heart's content and discontent, for it may truly be said of Rousseau that he was equally indignant at neglect and intolerant of attention.
There he found little religion and less refinement; but no serious difficulty seems to have been made about his reading the classics and the Fathers with his friends to his heart's content.
I told her in very simple language that there may be many places called heaven, but that essentially it was a condition--the fulfilment of the heart's desire, the satisfaction of its wants; and that heaven existed wherever RIGHT was acknowledged, believed in, and loved.
Prince Vasili, with one leg thrown high over the other and a snuffbox in his hand, was sitting there with a smile of deep emotion on his face, as if stirred to his heart's core and himself regretting and laughing at his own sensibility, when Princess Mary entered.
But the destruction of the French, which he alone foresaw, was his heart's one desire.