"Shoulder blade" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... breast, before he could disentangle his point, and, keeping it fast with my left hand, shortened my own sword with my right, intending to run him through the heart; but he received the thrust in the left arm, which penetrated up to the shoulder blade. Disappointed at this expectation, and afraid still that death would frustrate my revenge, I grappled with him, and, being much the stronger, threw him upon the ground, where I wrested his sword out of his hand, and, so great was ...
— The Adventures of Roderick Random • Tobias Smollett
... although he was not quite exhausted. Then, fearing lest the apparent weakness of his opponent was only a ruse by which he might gain advantage, Tom determined on an old football trick. A second later the German's shoulder blade snapped like a match, and Tom, seizing the paper, rushed back towards ...
— Tommy • Joseph Hocking
... where the Doctor was pointing. I found myself looking down a steep ravine, on the other bank of which a fine buffalo cow was scrambling upward. She had just reached the summit, and was turning round to survey her enemy, when I succeeded in planting a shot just behind the shoulder blade, and close to the spine, evoking from her a deep bellow of pain. "She is shot! she is shot!" exclaimed the Doctor; "that is a sure sign you have hit her." And the men even raised a shout at the prospect ...
— How I Found Livingstone • Sir Henry M. Stanley
... and Paris and Rome and possibly in due course Berlin, singing: "The Yanks are Coming" and "America Done It," because the French, Italians and Germans know little or nothing about music, and any American Y man, especially a blacksmith from Shoulder Blade, Kentucky, could give them a few lessons. And the British—why, they could do nothing, or would do nothing, till they got there. They were drilled for a month or more in squads right and squads left and taught by music masters to sing: "Here We Are, Hear ...
— Chit-Chat; Nirvana; The Searchlight • Mathew Joseph Holt
... levelled landscapes—the barbaric loneliness of Hell. I shall never forget my first dead man. He was a signalling officer, lying in the dawn on a muddy hill. I thought he was asleep at first, but when I looked more closely, I saw that his shoulder blade was showing white through his tunic. He was wearing black boots. It's odd, but the sight of black boots have the same effect on me now that black and white stripes had in childhood. I have the superstitious feeling that to wear them would ...
— Carry On • Coningsby Dawson |
