They crawled through the north fence and came on toward him, and now he saw that both were young, not more than nineteen or twenty.

They were dirty, their clothes were torn, and the girl was so exhausted that she fell when she was still twenty feet from the front door.

They were running from something.

They were a pair of lost, whipped kids, Morgan thought as he went to bed.

They passed ranches that were framed dark gray against the black hills.

They were tethered, army style, on stable lines.

They bawled questions that were not answered in the uproar.

They were about a mile off ; ;

They weren't sleeping, of course, but they thought they were doing him a favor by pretending.

They expected greater things from him, regardless of how trying the circumstances, and they were disappointed.

They were going to town, and they were both excited.

They were free.

They were in a fight, outweighed in both numbers and money.

They were sitting on their heels, rider-fashion, over by the still empty calf wagon.

They were considering it gravely, neither seeming to like what he planned.

They were silent for a little while, each looking glum.

They were all good men.

They were headed straight for each other on a collision course.

`` They were supposed to meet Thor at nine PM for a conference concerning the ad campaign for their soap, a new angle based on this SX-21 stuff ''.

They were married over the week-end, though he was easily sixty and she could not have been even thirty.

They were west of the Sabine, but only God knew where.

They were engulfed by the weird silence, broken only by the low, angry murmur of the river.

They were already swollen to bursting.

They lay a little too stiffly, with their eyes straining to stay closed.

They rode to the Rockfork House, a little farther along the opposite side of the street.

They know little about their machinery beyond mechanical details.

Lautner, for his part, `` belonged to the present-day race of small artists, who do not demand the utmost of themselves '', and the bitter description of the type includes such epithets as `` wretched little poseurs '', the devastating indictment `` they do not know how to be wretched decently and in order '', and the somewhat extreme prophecy, so far not fulfilled: `` They will be destroyed ''.

They had my mother's opinion of him: that he was too sharp or a little too good to be true.

They went up against an SS unit of comparable size, over a little rise of ground, over an open field.

They are the most beautiful part of that little piece of nature.

They lay on his lap, palms up, stiffly motionless, the tapered fingers a little thick at the joints.

They held the funeral the next morning from the crossroads church and buried the little box in the quiet family plot.

They also caught on a little bit on how to smile a lot without your lips trembling.

They depend on my supposedly expert knowledge of a trade of which they themselves know little.

They have little `` esprit de corps ''.

They apologized for the condition, including dirt and flies, and I was a little at a loss to know what to say.

`` They can be going along, doing little damage, then bang, bang -- they can hit a couple of passes on you for touchdowns and put you in trouble ''.

They knew what they could do and it was often a little more than I thought they could do.

They had divided the Congo into six provinces -- Leopoldville, Kasai, Kivu, Katanga, Equator and Eastern -- unfortunately with little regard for ethnic groupings.

They want to own a junior-grade castle, or a manor house, or some modest little place where Shakespeare might once have staged a pageant for Great Elizabeth and all her bearded courtiers.

They had large bright eyes, the small upturned noses of all babies everywhere, and hair cropped short except for the long ringlets of paot framing their little white faces.

They are likely to have lived on areas of the ocean floor that received little or no light and fed on detritus that descended from upper layers of the sea to the bottom.

They noted that there was little vocabulary shared by Turkic and Tungusic but not Mongolic.

They believed the continuities of the deepest structures were central to history, beside which upheavals in institutions or the superstructure of social life were of little significance, for history lies beyond the reach of conscious actors, especially the will of revolutionaries.

They fasted or ate very little ; a statue of the god was made out of amaranth ( huautli ) seeds and honey, and at the end of the month, it was cut into small pieces so everybody could eat a little piece of the god.