Quotes About Ribs

In Alabama, we have ribs with a white sauce, which is really great.

Around her ribs and waist were curves of the kind that wind carves in snowdrifts.

Under our ribs our hearts are bloody stars. Shine on shine on, and horses in their galloping flight strike the curve of ribs.

for God's sake, let's be done with the hypocrisy of claiming "I am a biblical literalist" when everyone is a selective literalist, especially those who swear by the antihomosexual laws in the Book of Leviticus and then feast on barbecued ribs and delight in Monday-night football, for it is toevali, an abomination, not only to eat pork but merely to touch the skin of a dead pig.

I felt my heart limping in my chest, and was revolted by it, a pitiful muscle, sick and bloody, pulsing against my ribs.

The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.

He smiles then exhales a tiny tornado. I wonder if his ribs are big enough for how he feels. His body is radiating something, but I can't tell what.

I was struggling happily with my ribs. Normally I ended up with barbecue sauce in my socks when I ate ribs, but I always figured they were worth it.

In adults, the only areas producing blood cells are the pelvis, spine, ribs, cranium, and proximal ends of long bones.

Breathing was easier, and he felt the stiffness on his ribs, which meant they'd been taped.

There is a beast in my gut, I can hear it scraping away at the inside of my ribs.

Sorrow fiddles the ribs and no man should put his hand on anything; there is no direct way. The foetus of symmetry nourishes itself on cross purposes; this is its wonderful unhappiness...

Golden arrow? And what would we do with a golden arrow? Give it to Alan for a lute string? I could hang it around my neck on a chain, perhaps, and let it stab me in the ribs when I tried to sit.

Her face brightened with a sudden flash of mischief, and without warning she punched him, surprisingly hard, in the ribs. "There!" she said. "Now I feel much better.

I give you back your heart. I give you permission – for the fuse inside her, throbbing angrily in the dirt, for the bitch in her and the burying of her wound – for the burying of her small red wound alive – for the pale flickering flare under her ribs, for the drunken sailor who waits in her left pulse

Oh dark woman With a shawl and ribs I could have served him better With my shanties. But men do love the shimmer And so his ghost Is hacked in half between us The dark me and the dark you.

Hmmm... cooking with wine? I usually drink wine while cooking... I do a good braised short ribs with cabernet, though. We're big red wine drinkers here. All that research showing that it's good for you takes the guilt away.

There's a couple of foods that if you see me eat them in a contest, you can tell I like them. Grilled cheese sandwiches, chicken wings, ribs, hot dogs, hamburgers, pizza. I mean, those, they go down like I was made to eat them.

When she made her way to the big picture window that framed the dining room table she froze. She stopped breathing. The anger was growing again. It grew up into her throat, where she could taste it, coppery like blood, in the back of her mouth. It grew down into her stomach, where it knotted her intestines. It made her arms stiffen and her shoulders lock. It pushed against her ribs until she felt they would snap like sticks.

The lighthouse stood defiant against the onslaught of wind and wave, like a knight in a white tunic refusing to surrender even though he is shot through with bullets and his ribs are laid bare.

The doctor tapped my ribs and eavesdropped on my heart.

the bones of cirrus clouds stand out like ribs against the sky - an angel is stretching...

A smell of sandalwood boxes, a kind of glaze on the air from all the chintzes numbed his earthy vitality, he became all ribs and uniform.

Rumors, stories... I'm used to them. I got my ribs removed, I was on 'The Wonder Years'... You know there's a different story every day.