Her stomach contracted and then twisted into a knot.
True, but her answer left Carmen's stomach tied in a knot.
As usual, her stomach was grumbling for food.
The truth settled into the pit of her stomach, along with the realization that she meant what she'd said—she would do whatever it took to free the man she loved.
Her stomach grumbled loudly again.
Her stomach lurched again as she thought about the way the car had stopped.
Her stomach churned at the idea.
The dread and guilt at the pit of her stomach were countered by the confusion of knowing that she'd fallen into the grip of the Immortal laws first with Gabriel then with Darkyn.
Still, that nagging feeling in her stomach didn't go away.
The sweet smell made her mouth water, and her stomach growled in anticipation.
She had to eat, sleep, think, speak, weep, work, give vent to her anger, and so on, merely because she had a stomach, a brain, muscles, nerves, and a liver.
I felt a sickness in my stomach at the news, in spite of having surmised as much.
She met his gaze, her stomach tense as she steeled herself against the response to her next probing question.
We seem to have lost our stomach for these kinds of losses.
Traci's hand fluttered to her stomach, and Sofia's face flamed.
He felt sick to his stomach and wondered how Bianca had become so much a part of him in so little time.
He rested his hand on her expanding stomach and his chin on her head.
She gave him an agitated look and rolled onto her stomach, twisting her head away from him.
The scents made her stomach roar to life.
"He wants to see a battle," said Zherkov to Bolkonski, pointing to the accountant, "but he feels a pain in the pit of his stomach already."
Her gaze stopped on the dead Indian and her stomach lurched.
I must have made a sound as my stomach again roiled and I grabbed the wall to steady myself.
If NATO is responsible for the bulk of the world's military spending and NATO no longer has the stomach for full-on war with modern states, then large-scale war seems less likely.
Adrienne's stomach lurched and chill bumps popped out on her arms.
The agony she saw in his eyes made her stomach roll.
Her stomach growled again.
Her stomach was content, and she hadn't thrown up.
Rights do not mean much, he reasoned, to those with an "empty stomach, shirtless back, roofless dwellings ... unemployment and poverty, no education or medical attention."
They called it acute congestion of the stomach and brain.
Finding no trace of the cracker there, she pointed to my stomach and spelled "eat," meaning, "Did you eat it?"
It was almost three O'clock in the afternoon and her stomach was screaming for something to eat.
Her mouth went dry and her stomach lurched violently.
Still, her stomach would be tied in a knot until she was sure it wasn't her father.
Fire formed in her stomach, racing through her.
Her stomach growled loudly.
The pain in her stomach was almost crippling.
She clutched her stomach as pain pierced her concentration.
She rolled onto her stomach away from him, blood flying with desire and heat.
He kicked her in the stomach, and she gasped.
It chanced that I walked that way across the fields the following night, about the same hour, and hearing a low moaning at this spot, I drew near in the dark, and discovered the only survivor of the family that I know, the heir of both its virtues and its vices, who alone was interested in this burning, lying on his stomach and looking over the cellar wall at the still smouldering cinders beneath, muttering to himself, as is his wont.
Rostov himself, his legs well back and his stomach drawn in and feeling himself one with his horse, rode past the Emperor with a frowning but blissful face "like a vewy devil," as Denisov expressed it.
"Fine men!" remarked Napoleon, looking at a dead Russian grenadier, who, with his face buried in the ground and a blackened nape, lay on his stomach with an already stiffened arm flung wide.
He had just finished dressing for his ride, and wore a blue uniform, opening in front over a white waistcoat so long that it covered his rotund stomach, white leather breeches tightly fitting the fat thighs of his short legs, and Hessian boots.
Along that line of thought such a deduction is indubitable, as indubitable as the deduction Voltaire made in jest (without knowing what he was jesting at) when he saw that the Massacre of St. Bartholomew was due to Charles IX's stomach being deranged.
The pitiful groans from all sides and the torturing pain in his thigh, stomach, and back distracted him.
A minute later the old man's large stout figure in full-dress uniform, his chest covered with orders and a scarf drawn round his stomach, waddled out into the porch.
She felt as though a cold hand grasped her stomach and squeezed hard.
Clutching her stomach, she sank to her knees.
As he walked away, her stomach did a flip-flop.
She folded her arms across her stomach and walked closer to him so she didn't have to yell.
My stomach knotted with the knowledge this might be our last chance.
Her stomach dropped at the thought of him, and her eyes watered.
The mention of him reminded her of her cramped stomach and the half dozen failed attempts to eat normal food.
Her stomach growled again.
The hussar at that moment noticed the face of the red-nosed captain and his drawn-in stomach, and mimicked his expression and pose with such exactitude that Nesvitski could not help laughing.
And how did she stomach the thought of her father doing such a thing to someone?
His whole short corpulent figure with broad thick shoulders, and chest and stomach involuntarily protruding, had that imposing and stately appearance one sees in men of forty who live in comfort.
A burning pain started in her stomach and ended up in her eyes.
Within a few minutes the plane was dipping and rising in a way that made her stomach roll uncomfortably.
I had no stomach to involve myself in the love relationship of these two.
She wore only a long shirt to her knees that twisted to her stomach with her fall.
He felt sick to his stomach again.
Her stomach rolled and she looked away.
Her stomach grumbled but the thought of a ham sandwich disgusted her.
An empty stomach did little to relieve her misery, though.
It was a moment that lay in her stomach like a week-long hunger, regardless of the fact that they had been gone only minutes.
The foul smelling grease turned her stomach.
My heart jumped and my stomach roiled.
Carmen's stomach squeezed into a knot.
His fist was aimed at her stomach, but she managed to dodge and catch it on her rib cage.
Her stomach contracted at his tone and the look on his face.
An empty stomach made the experience less embarrassing.
Since everyone knew the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, she started with a special meal.
Which would be worse, an uneasy stomach or split lips?
He Traveled to the common area of the newbie barracks, where Bianca lay on her stomach across the couch in front of the TV.