He'd rather stand out than fit in ; and Dion has no time for anyone who doesn't " get " that.

He'd rather get something like this than go to Men's Wearhouse, pay the same amount, and look like an out-of-date parent.

He'd make his " transformation " along with one or more of the others, but not by magic ; rather, by quickly removing his break-away garments ( under the cover of lightning that the real Marvel ( s ) called down ) to reveal his homemade Marvel costume underneath.

He'd rather have the team do sometimes rather dangerous or stupid promotional gimmicks and autograph signings with fans than having them save the world, although he does acknowledge that they do good.

He'd also rather not face them or Gustavus again in battle, and in particular not the American rifles which tore up his jaw and put him in declining health since he could not ingest solids.

He'd rather play with James instead and runs off while his mother is not looking.

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

" 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 also formed a blueprint for the prospective league's operations, which included early television exposure, heavy promotion in home markets, and owners willing to absorb years of losses — which he felt would be inevitable until the league found its feet.

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 probably be run over by a Yellow Cab on Park Avenue and killed ,' my wife said.

" You wouldn't be as badly off as John D. Rockefeller ," the Scarecrow responds, " He'd lose six thousand dollars a minute if that happened.

He'd always said you had to be ready to take off on short notice.

He'd had abscess there, it spread to both his eyes and one had to be removed.

*" He'd be turning in his grave if he were alive today.

He'd always be in his room calling the shots.

He'd be handsomer than he is if he had better manners but life and his enemies have left him looking a little beat up, and I suppose having seen his mother ( back about 1840 ) trying to take a bath in a wooden washtub without fully undressing left his soul a little warped.

He'd always considered the islands his home, and had never considered the possibility of anyone seeing him as anything other than black, but he realized here for the first time, by some, he might be considered white.

He'd be like the everyman who's affected by the dramatic personalities around him.

' He'd be kissing the receiver and lavishing affection – ' Hello, lovey dovey ' – on a dog!

The film features many old songs, framed by a popular number from 1914 called " He'd Have to Get Under — Get Out and Get Under ( to Fix Up His Automobile )".

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

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

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

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 had no idea how unhappy his sweet peach had been.

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.

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.

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.