It crept into the open neck of her blouse and slid down her body, seeping into her flesh through all the quivering pores of her skin.

It entered her body with the ghastly intimacy of an incubus, and its particles, spreading, creeping, crawling, joined themselves into steel bands that constricted her knees so tightly that they ached ; ;

Her own body protested, aching painfully where the blood in her veins had congealed, where cold demon wisps still clung and caressed.

With Rod on his way and Matilda visiting with Mrs. Jackson while they searched out familiar names on the face of the cliff, Harmony settled on the edge of the grub box, to ease the pressure of her swollen body on her bone-weary legs, and worried about all that might have happened to Sally.

You must forgive me if I seem to dwell too much on her physical aspects but I am an artist, accustomed to studying the physical body.

Her form was silhouetted and with the strong light I could see the outlines of her body, a body that an artist or anyone else would have admired.

Just no spot, not even a dimesize spot, on her whole body that wasn't bruised, bruise on top of bruise, from beatings.

Each dancer follows the ancient Oriental pattern -- she glides sideways with shoulders motionless while her stomach migrates, and, through breathing and muscle control, she sends ripples across her body to the fingertips and away to the far end of the room.

Daughter of a gypsy mother who taught her to dance, she is one of the few really beautiful girls in the New York Casbah, with dark eyes and dark, waist-length hair, the face of an adolescent patrician and a lithe, glimmering body.

Gazing at her husband's drugged body, his chest rising and falling in mindless rhythms, she saw the grandeur of his fictional world, that lush garden from which he plucked flowers and herbs.

No fold could be accidental, each turn of the drapery had to serve organically, to cover the Madonna's slender legs and feet so that they would give substantive support to Christ's body, to intensify her inner turmoil.

Though this sculpture must take place thirty-three years after her moment of decision, he could not conceive of her as a woman in her mid-fifties, old, wrinkled, broken in body and face by labor or worry.

The thin legs twitched convulsively once, then Kate felt the little body stiffening in her arms and heard one strangled sound.

She grasped the chair arms and brought her thin body upright, like a bird alert for flight.

The blonde's nude body was in bed, a green sheet and a pink blanket covered her.

Why, I once used this machine to cure a woman with 97 pounds of cancer in her body ''.

He started toward the stairway, then turned to add, `` Tell her to come to Adams's room, that Adams is in trouble.

Even the knowledge that she was losing another boy, as a mother always does when a marriage is made, did not prevent her from having the first carefree, dreamless sleep that she had known since they dropped down the canyon and into Bear Valley, way, way back there when they were crossing those other mountains.

The artist looks at an ankle, a calf, a bosom and, in his mind's eye, the clothes drop away and he sees her as she really is.

And that is the way I first saw her when my Uncle brought her into his antique store.

`` Oh, it's that myth, about Orpheus and What is her name??

At her door, two or three hours later, Mary Jane whispered, `` Everyone is asleep ''.

And all the time, she had the heat of hatred in her, like charcoal that is burning on its under side, but not visibly.

The dancer who never loosens her hold on a parasol, begins to feel that it is part of herself.

The supreme object of their lives is now fulfilled, says the wife, her husband has achieved immortality.

His sailing vessel is guided by fate to the shores of his own country at a time when Sibylla's domain is overrun by the armies of one of her rejected suitors.

Sibylla is pregnant with their second child when she finds the ivory tablet concealed by her husband, and the identities of mother and son are revealed.

usually, this is most exasperating to men, who expect every woman to verify their preconceived notions concerning her sex, and when she does not, immediately condemn her as eccentric and unwomanly.

Bertha Szold was more like Meg, the eldest March girl, who `` learned that a woman's happiest kingdom is home, her highest honor the art of ruling it, not as a queen, but a wise wife and mother ''.

The first thing to do is get her some money by a temporary but definite adjustment pending a final disposition of the case.

Her clothes, her hair, everything about her is both graceful and simple.

It is not the same dress as the one on her manikin in the Smithsonian.

She had stood at the bottom of the stairs, as usual, when Mrs. Coolidge came down, in the same dress that is now in the Smithsonian, to greet her guests.

In a small way this is illustrated by the nineteenth-century novelist who argued for the powerful influence of literature as a teacher of society and who illustrated this with the way a girl learned to meet her lover, how to behave, how to think about this new experience, how to exercise restraint.

This prospect did not please Mrs. King any more than did the possibility that her daughter might marry a Bohemian, but she used it to suggest to Thompson that, `` It is not in her nature to love you ''.

We may further grant to those of her ( Poetry's ) defenders who are lovers of poetry and yet not poets, the permission to speak in prose on her behalf: let them show not only that she is pleasant but also useful to States and to human life, and we will listen in a kindly spirit ; ;

He treats her like she was dirt.

He knew that anything a brainy little lady like her had to say would be plumb important, as well as pleasin' to the ear, and he didn't want to miss a word of it.

He would tell her not to pry into grownups' affairs -- as though she were a little kid like Elena!!

`` It doesn't seem quite right, telling her a thing like that.

She stood up, pulled the coat from her shoulders and started to slide it off, then let out a high-pitched scream and I let out a low-pitched, wobbling sound like a muffler blowing out.

There was something about the contour of her face, her smile that was like New Orleans sunshine, the way she held her head, the way she walked -- there was scarcely anything she did which did not fascinate me.

Her heart, her maternal feeling, in fact her being was too busy expressing itself, as quietly thrilled by this sight of her Nicolas curled asleep under a blanket, in a park like a scene from Poussin.

Delphine presented her cheek for a kiss, and the physician pecked it like a timid rooster.

Delphine stood like stone, her eyes alive with hate as she looked down at the sheeted corpse.

It was, of course, a little boy's fantasy of winning his mother to himself, and replacing the father who could not give her the things she wanted -- a classical oedipal fantasy if you like -- but if it were only this the story would be banal.

and `` Marmee '' March, like Sophie Szold, was the competent manager of her brood of girls, of whom the Marches had only four to the Szolds' five.

Neither was Henrietta hoydenish like Jo, who frankly wished she were a boy and had deliberately shortened her name, which, like Henrietta's, was the feminine form of a boy's name.

Bertha, blue-eyed like Mamma, was from the start her mother's daughter, destined for her mother's role in life.

Sadie, like Beth March, suffered ill health -- got rheumatic fever and had to be careful of her heart -- but that never dampened her spirits.

And like Jo March, who saw her sisters Meg and Amy involved in `` lovering '' before herself, Henrietta saw her sisters Rachel and Sadie drawn outside their family circle by the attraction of suitors, Rachel by Joe Jastrow, and Sadie by Max Lobl, a young businessman who would write her romantic descriptions of his trips by steamboat down the Mississippi.