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Page "Nicomedes I of Bithynia" ¶ 2
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was and more
When they were closer and he saw that one was a woman, he was more puzzled than ever.
He was silent a moment, thinking he could use a man this time of year, and if the girl could cook, it would give him more time in the meadows, but he knew nothing about the couple.
There was more to this than Jones had told him.
I decided to see no more of the clerk until the processing of my papers was completed.
Unconcerned, indifferent, unmotivated, the forest was simply there -- fighting man's depredations with more abundant growth and man's follies with its own musical evening laughter.
He could move very quickly, she knew ( although he seldom found occasion to do so ), but he was more wiry than truly strong.
Somehow more terrible than the certainty that he was about to die was the knowledge that Lord would probably not suffer for it: the murder would go unpunished.
It was to be nothing more than that.
No man's name brought more cheers when it was announced in a rodeo.
But he was more than half-drunk, and his faculties were dulled.
Over the rapidly-diminishing outline of a jump seat piled high with luggage Herry's black brushcut was just discernible, near, or enviably near that spot where -- hidden -- more delicately-textured, most beautifully tinted hair must still be streaming back in cool, oh cool wind sweetly perfumed with sagebrush and yucca flowers and engine fumes.
Johnson unwired the right hand door, whose window was, like the left one, merely loosely-taped fragments of glass, and Johnson wadded himself into a narrow seat made still more narrow by three cases of beer.
True, she was my Aunt, married to an Uncle related to me only by marriage, but why she had married a man twice her age, and more, perhaps, I did not know or much care.
Keith Sterling had looked down on the Brahmaputra more times than he could remember, during the war days when he flew over the Hump of the world, thinking it high adventure in those times before man was guiding himself through outer space.
This one was actually more of a `` near miss ''.
Keith was on his feet because he didn't care at all about life any more: Penny on her feet, proudly, because she cared too much.
Because he couldn't hear them, he was more convinced they were there.
He was the lawman who survived more gunfights than any other famous gun-slinging character in the book.
His bold eyes raked the woman, and a perceptive spectator might sense that there was more to their relationship than that of slave to owner.
He bounced exuberantly on the sagging bed and was even more delighted when Madame Lalaurie -- after closing the door -- showed the slave that the bed was designed for something other than slumber.
The girl was not more than 16.
In every war of the United States since the Civil War the South was more belligerent than the rest of the country.

was and against
against this bent man in the chair he was powerless.
First it was the Nations against themselves, then it was them against the whites.
The fire had gone down, and the man was only a shadow against the trees.
There a dozen giant monitors played their seventy-five-foot jets of water against the huge seam of tertiary gravel which was the mountainside.
Hague, like all who worked near the pits, was partly deafened from the constant assault against his eardrums.
He was a big man, wearing a neat flannel shirt against the cold foothill air.
against the limitless background of sky and wasteland it was easy to confirm her analysis.
He was puffing on a cigar, and he was turning up his coat collar against the rain.
The hands and their bosses saw him as a lone knight of the range, waging a dedicated crusade against a lawless new society that was threatening a beloved way of life.
He knew now what he was up against.
The metal strip they had taken off from was coal black against the green jungle around it.
Johnson's left hand was pressed against the side of his head, red cheeks whitening beneath his fingers.
The Indian's arm whipped sidewise -- there was a flash of amber and froth, the crash of the bottle shattering against the side of the first car.
I was standing beside her, watching the outspread palms and wondering about the old horsehair sofa against the wall on which he sometimes napped.
Nicolas was dreaming he had his head pressed against the dashboard of a speeding car.
Blue Throat was slumped with his back against the bar, elbows supporting his massive frame.
Although New Orleans was not to learn of it for a spell, she also was a sadist, a nymphomaniac and unobtrusively mad -- the perpetrator of some of the worst crimes against humanity ever committed on American soil.
Theirs is no mere lack of sympathy, but something closer to the passionate hatred that was directed against Fascism.
The man was leaning against the rock.
`` It was then I knew that they were making war against Man, the individual within!!

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