He'd been in an angry mood: Conchita had thought his face almost ugly with the anger in him.

He'd been there several times, back when, while he and Radic had been friends, or at least not enemies.

He'd had no idea how unhappy his sweet peach had been.

He'd been sent by Pittsburgh's GM Branch Rickey to evaluate Clemente's teammate Joe Black, a pitcher Rickey himself had originally signed for the Dodgers and was now thinking of reacquiring for Pittsburgh.

He'd been trying obliquely to sell a comic book premise to DC or Marvel, but neither company would allow Aragonés to retain the copyright.

Then it hit me: He'd been giving me all this bullshit about his wife and his two kids in London, when in fact he was gay, and he was makin ' a move on me!

He'd had his arms and legs blown off and some of his body had been blown through the railings.

He'd been a reporter and a writer of screenplays before and after the war ; and one of his books documents the experiences of concentration camp survivors, several of whom cite the plaintiff as the source of their suffering.

He'd been stabbed with an ice pick and shot.

He'd been submitting tapes and song ideas to us since he'd joined the band, always instrumentals, since he didn't sing.

He'd skipped out on several local Democratic club meetings, and his campaign Website hadn't been updated since 2011.

He'd been a good teacher.

He'd been through some things with her, himself ".

He'd been carrying the injury since the start of the season, and the collision led to a full break, putting White out for six weeks.

He'd been the company's president from 1974 to 1976, when he was fired due to his abrasive management style.

He'd been discovered by famed African-American comedian Bert Williams in the 1920s.

He'd been just as disdainful of an earlier purchase: Colin's grandsire Domino, ( another eventual Horse of the Year in 1893 and Hall of Famer ), but his son, Foxwell Keene, bought Domino anyway.

He'd been drinking heavily and wound up crashing his car, leaving him mortally wounded.

He'd been shot in the head.

He'd been shot in the head.

He'd been drinking and was tired and emotional.

He'd been captain of the team as a junior and senior.

He'd mounted up immediately and raced with a revolver ready toward the spot from which he'd estimated the shot had come.

He'd be out there squinting because he could see, at midnight, the moonlight and shadows, and that was his way of not seeing the weeds or imperfections that would plague him during the day ..." Talking of the tranquility he felt at Friar Park, Harrison once said: " Sometimes I feel like I'm actually on the wrong planet, and it's great when I'm in my garden.

He'd play it once, and if he didn't like it or we didn't like it, he'd play it again — completely different.

Tim Finnegan lived in Walken streetA gentleman Irish, mighty oddHe had a brogue both rich and sweetAnd to rise in the world he carried a hodYou see he'd a sort of a tipplin ' wayWith a love for the liquor he was bornAnd to send him on his way each day, He'd a drop of the craythur every morn '

He'd say: ' We need a new smash hit ' — and we'd all go back and write a song and the next day we'd each audition for Bobby Vee's producer.

He'd ask them to sit down as, and if, he pointed to each person and said his or her name.

He'd save up all the money he earned or obtained and every two weeks head down and buy as many pocketbooks as he could afford.

He'd be an idiot to let them stay he thought, but he couldn't send them on, either.

He'd started a fire and put coffee on, and now was busy at the work board of his chuck wagon.

He'd come alone, without his wife and child.

He'd told Hank Maguire and Luis Hernandez about his wife's refusal to come with him and about what he now intended to do.

He'd hoped to catch Jesse Macklin there.

He'd put on his old brown corduroy coat and it was already soaked.

He'd grin.

He'd shoot at anything if it was the rear end of a horse or his own sentry.

He'd come East for the christening, by God he would.

He'd not care about getting waked so he could give up some of his whisky to a slit of a kid and maybe lose one of his hiding places in the bargain.

( He'd get the engine oil flowing with an electric heater under a big canvas cover.

He'd landed the plane on a small airstrip in Connecticut and as soon as the aircraft had coasted to a stop, everyone had burst into chatter at the same moment.

He'd have to start going to some of the other places again.

He'd mentioned it, himself, at church and everybody seemed to have the idea that Tolley had left because Jenny had jilted him for Roy Robards.

He'd have to think, but the main thing, the imperative necessity, was to leave before Sam Bentley was up and about, and before Millie detained him with sympathy.

He'd tell Sabella about the nightmare.

He'd just admitted it to me.

He'd not only told me so, he'd proved it.

" While Frank Miller has described the relationship between Batman and the Joker as a " homophobic nightmare ," he views the character as sublimating his sexual urges into crimefighting, concluding, " He'd be much healthier if he were gay.

He'd spearheaded the Ace line, he was the originating editor-in-chief of the Avon paperback list in 1945, and I think he was hurt and took it personally.