Burly Quotes

#1. He'd removed his helmet, revealing a babyish face that didn't go with his military haircut or his big burly frame. He looked like a toddler who'd taken steroids and joined the Marines. #Quote by Rick Riordan

#2. Wedlock is the deep, deep peace of the double bed after the hurly-burly of the chaise lounge. #Quote by Mrs. Patrick Campbell

#3. Mrs. Stubbs, and she pointed dramatically to the life-size head and shoulders of a burly man with a dead white rose in the buttonhole of his coat that made you think of a curl of cold mutting fat. Just below, in silver #Quote by Katherine Mansfield

#4. The old faiths light their candles all about, but burly Truth comes by and puts them out. #Quote by Lizette Woodworth Reese

#5. With a resounding bang, the door burst open. A crazed man gaped at her with piercing and anguished blue eyes. Grunting, he staggered inside and collapsed face first to the floor.

Max launched into a cacophony of barking, racing around the man as if the spaniel had made a conquest.

A cold wind chilled the cottage while Jane tried to steady the poker with both hands and point it at the burly form. He didn't move.

Max whimpered and licked the man's face. Then the dog curled up beside him.

Jane gaped. "Merciful father. #Quote by Amy Jarecki

#6. Nodding, Cery strode to the door and stepped through. Though the burly guards eyes him suspiciously, Cery smiled back. Never make enemies of someone's lackeys, his father had taught him. Better still, make them like you a lot. #Quote by Trudi Canavan

#7. As I followed the chief waiter with my eyes, I could not help thinking that the garden in which he had gradually blown to be the flower he was, was an arduous place to rise in. It had such a prescriptive, stiff-necked, long-established, solemn, elderly air. I glanced about the room, which had had its sanded floor sanded, no doubt, in exactly the same manner when the chief waiter was a boy - if he ever was a boy, which appeared improbable; and at the shining tables, where I saw myself reflected, in unruffled depths of old mahogany; and at the lamps, without a flaw in their trimming or cleaning; and at the comfortable green curtains, with their pure brass rods, snugly enclosing the boxes; and at the two large coal fires, brightly burning; and at the rows of decanters, burly as if with the consciousness of pipes of expensive old port wine below; and both England and the law appeared to me to be very difficult indeed to be taken by storm. #Quote by Charles Dickens

#8. From the woods that surrounded the burgh came a mass of men. Some rode, others ran. All carried weapons, mainly axes or spears. A few wore mail shirts and cloaks, but most just leather aketons. Among them were a handful of men clad in the short tunics favoured by Highlanders. These men were bare from
thigh to foot, an alarming sight to Ormesby, who had only heard rumour of these wild men of the north. As
they came, they roared a multitude of battle cries. Ormesby caught one name in the din, issuing from a group of mailed riders who followed a burly man on a finely caparisoned horse.
'For Douglas!' they howled. 'For Douglas!'
Below, the townsfolk were scattering. The English soldiers had formed a tight knot outside the hall, blades drawn, but even as Ormesby watched, the forlorn group of beggars he had seen threw off their ragged skins and furs, revealing thickly muscled warriors. They fell upon the soldiers with savage cries,
daggers thrusting.
Footsteps sounded on the hall stairs. The door burst open and two soldiers appeared. 'We must go, sir!'
The clerks and officials were already hastening across the chamber. Donald was running with them.
Ormesby remained rooted. 'Who are they?' he demanded, his voice high as he turned back to the window, seeing the horde rushing into the town. His eyes fixed on a giant of a man running, almost loping
in the front lines. Taller than all those around him, agile in the stride, he wore a simple da #Quote by Robyn Young

#9. He jolted, maybe because he'd just heard the voice of a rare female; or because I was strolling around outside the cages. "Indiana."

Still? Damn it! "Who runs this place?"

Overhearing our hushed exchange, a burly guy with a bandana over his head turned toward me and said, "Solomón, the leader of the Skins."

"Skins?"

Pops said, "Those are Sol's fanatical followers."

Bandana added, "They consider us the Shirts." Shirts and Skins. As in football? Who makes up this shit? #Quote by Kresley Cole

#10. This hour of union with the old woman soothed her like music, like chords lightly touched in the evening, with the shadows closing and the moths bruising beyond an open window. She leaned against the old woman's knee as a support, a prop, drowned, enfolded, in warmth, dimness, and soft harmonious sounds. The hurly-burly receded; the clangour was stilled… #Quote by Vita Sackville-West

#11. Brings domesticity and common sense, and that propriety which every man loves, directly into this hurly-burly, and makes every bully ashamed. #Quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson

#12. In all the hurly-burly, I'd forgotten, but now I remember: The most important thing of all is that everyone's alive at the end of the day. #Quote by Theresa Brown

#13. They paid the deposit immediately and appeared to be good tenants although they were reluctant to invite him over the threshold once they had moved in. "There is no need for you to come in," he had been told by a burly Russian who answered the door when he had called to see whether all was well. "There is nothing wrong. Everything functions. We are very happy. Goodbye. #Quote by Alexander McCall Smith

#14. One man who could understand it very well was the architect of these stop-gap measures: General the Viscount Gort, Commander-in-Chief of the British Expeditionary Force. A big burly man of 53, Lord Gort was no strategist - he was happy to follow the French lead on such matters - but he had certain soldierly virtues that came in handy at a time like this. He was a great fighter - had won the Victoria Cross storming the Hindenburg Line in 1918 - and he was completely unflappable. #Quote by Walter Lord

#15. Halloo down there," the voice said. Ziba saw a burly soldier in armor standing at the edge of the cliff. "Are you Israelites?"
"We are," Jonathan said.
"We thought all of the Israelites were still hiding in the caves." Ziba heard others laughing and could tell that they had been drinking. "We have plenty of wine here if you want to come join us. We even have some of your countrymen who are now in our army."
"If we come up there, it will be only to fight and kill you," Jonathan said.
The Philistine laughed. "Well, then, come on up. It's plenty boring up here. Maybe you can liven things up, small as you are."
Jonathan looked at Ziba, who then nodded.
"We'll be right up," Jonathan shouted back. #Quote by Glen Robinson

#16. The night before I married you your father made me promise to always take care of you." I laughed a little, easily able to picture my tall, burly father cornering the young knight I had fallen in love with. "To the best of my ability I have kept that promise." I laid my hand on his chest to comfort the tension that rippled through his muscles.
"You have, Lance," I assured him. He took my hand in his and turned very serious.
"No, I haven't. I haven't provided you with everything you need. #Quote by Derendrea

#17. How could human behaviour be described? Surely only by showing the actions of a variety of humans, as they are all mixed up together. Not what one man is doing now, but the whole hurly-burly, is the background against which we see an action, and it determines our judgment, our concepts, and our reactions. #Quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein

#18. She lives in a town of sorry history,
indifferent to ethical perspectives,
apathetic to female attributes,
cargo and trunk liners,
spilled oil in the garage,
telephone poles shaped like liquor bottles,
sustaining burly weather,
cardiac distressing cold,
tobacco and mortality,
lying face-up on the bar's concrete floor,
no one can waste a life
faster than a Montana redneck. #Quote by Brian D'Ambrosio

#19. The big, burly oaf offended my girl, so without hesitation I rushed to her defense. I did, however, make a few stops along the way, and by the time I got home and back, the dispute was settled and she had found another way home. #Quote by Jarod Kintz

#20. My conversations with people who are just beginning to understand and include transsexual and transgender people in their plans or programs lean heavily on this. For them, the very fact of a transsexual who is a real student at their school or client of their agency can be new and surprising. But for queers and transfolk, who have institutionalized an additional set of queerly normative genders, it can sometimes be difficult to hear that we, too, must expand. If butch daddies want to crochet, if twinkly ladyboys are sometimes tops in bed, if burly bears can do BDSM play as little girls, if femme fatales build bookcases in their spare time, these things, too, are not just good but great. They bring us, I believe, wonderful news: news that gendered options can continue to explode, that the chefs in the kitchen of gender are creating new and imaginative specials every day. That we, all of us, are the chefs. Hi. Have a whisk. #Quote by S. Bear Bergman

#21. And the old ones were burly people, as strong as bears or wolverines. One of Thorn's stories told how an old one had married a bear by mistake, and neither of them had noticed; their daughter told them about it years later, not at all pleased with them. #Quote by Kim Stanley Robinson

#22. And so it came to pass that i was strapped to a gurney and covered in raw liver and slabs of beef that very quickly turned rancid under the bright spotlights. there exists a videotape somewhere that documents me being wheeled about the dance floor by two burly "orderlies," while i desperately search for a bathroom big enough to accommodate the stretcher so i can do a bump of cocaine. watching me retch from the decomposing meat, and simultaneously fiend for drugs, makes for an entertaining time, indeed.
when i told my mother the extremes i went to in order to make a living, she just shook her head and said, "now don't you wish you'd finished college, dear?"
mothers are so wise, sometimes. #Quote by James St. James

#23. Throw yourself into the hurly-burly of life. It doesn't matter how many mistakes you make, what unhappiness you have to undergo. It is all your material ... Don't wait for experience to come to you; go out after experience. Experience is your material. #Quote by W. Somerset Maugham

#24. Duke was a burly, barrel-shaped Rottweiler made up of muscle and solid fat and built like a wrestler, a dog that looked like it was permanently on the verge of dying of boredom. He shook his weighty head as if he was being plagued by ear-mites and dislodged a scatter of small romantic words like a broken rope of pearls. #Quote by Kate Atkinson

#25. The joyous fulfillment of your sex : the sacred duties of beloved wife, and helpmeet, and mother. In opposition to the vulgar and mercantile hurly-burly of the great world, the idyllic pleasures of the domestic hearth-the which, I firmly believe, make of one small room an everywhere, indeed; and provide us with that small measure of bliss, which is, if we are greatly fortunate, and deserving, Our Lord's promise to us, of the Heaven to come. #Quote by Joyce Carol Oates

#26. Big, burly Harley with the heart of an angel, soul of a teddy bear, and Sue with her backbone of titanium, spiked with rusty nails, ready to take on any threat to those close to her. #Quote by Amy E. Reichert

#27. I try to maintain a positive attitude at all times, because clients notice little things like that, and if you're frowning and crying all the time and saying "why? why?", they get worried. #Quote by John Swartzwelder

#28. Okay. So, apparently I find burly Indian men attractive. What's wrong with that? #Quote by Colleen Houck

#29. Moscow, breathing fire like a human volcano with its smouldering lava of passion, ambition and politics, its hurly-burly of meetings and entertainment ... Moscow seethes and bubbles and gasps for air. It's always thirsting for something new ... #Quote by Svetlana Alliluyeva

#30. That's proof right there that men and women are on different levels because men can watch two women together and that's a turn-on. It doesn't work the same way for us, does it, ladies? No, uh-uh - it doesn't work the same. You ask any woman in here her sexual fantasy, and I will bet you a million dollars that it's NOT to go home and catch your man bent over with some big, burly guy standing behind him. #Quote by Wanda Sykes

#31. Alone: for the first time I understood the terrible significance of that word. Alone without a witness, without anyone to speak to, without refuge. The breath in my body, the blood in my veins, all this hurly-burly in my head existed for nobody. #Quote by Simone De Beauvoir

#32. If you have ever prayed in the dawn you will ask yourself why you were so foolish as not to do it always: it is difficult to get into communion with God in the midst of the hurly-burly of the day. #Quote by Oswald Chambers

#33. The sight of the freshly swept floors and neatly furled curtains unsettled Wilder. He pulled the drawers on to the floor, heaved the mattresses off the beds, and urinated into the bath. His burly figure, trousers open to expose his heavy genitalia, glared at him from the mirrors in the bedroom. He was about to break the glass, but the sight of his penis calmed him, a white club hanging in the darkness. He would have liked to dress it in some way, perhaps with a hair-ribbon tied in a floral bow. #Quote by J.G. Ballard

#34. You're probably good at taking lip, aren't you?" I mutter more to myself than to my bodyguard, clawing through the suitcase for a T-shirt that isn't tight on me. "Like a CIA operative, right? Do bodyguards go to bodyguard school? Are you like the hitman in Hitman?"

He adjusts his cuffs. "You know the rule about fight club?"

I give him a surprised look. "So you can talk!"

He raises a single eyebrow. "I will be right outside your door if you need me. You have to be down at the lot in twenty minutes. I suggest you hurry." Then he takes his burly frame and saunters out of the room.

I shove my head into a clean shirt and pull my arms through just as my phone blips.

There's a message. Well, two messages.

Gail 8:36 AM

- HIS NAME IS LONNY. BE NICE.

"Lonny?" That name definitely is not fit for a three-hundred-pound machine of total annihilation, but okay #Quote by Ashley Poston

#35. Tell me more," I said. "Tell me anything. What's the meaning of life?"
He let out a big, burly laugh.
"You thought you'd stump me with that one, didn't you? It's actually very simple. The purpose of life is to find your way back to a spiritual way of thinking and living-to be able to get past the physical stuff. That's pretty much the whole test. And every soul is given talents and strengths to help them along the way."
"That's it?"
He snickered at my bug-eyed response.
"It's much harder than it sounds." He looked up at the clock now. "Ten more minutes, little one. What else you got for me? #Quote by Wendy Higgins

#36. King Richard, who was a strong, restless, burly man, with one idea always in his head, and that the very troublesome idea of breaking the heads of other men, was mightily impatient to go on a Crusade to the Holy Land, with a great army. #Quote by Charles Dickens

#37. An axe struck him in the head. Pain screamed through him as shards of bone from his own skull drove into his brain.
"Bastard" he snarled as he wheeled around to his attacker, a burly Ramreel with a black snout and glowing red eyes. "You fucked up my Mohawk. #Quote by Larissa Ione

#38. The entrant mooed like a calf but in insolence looked about him. Hew saw Kit. Kit saw him. Nay, it was more than pure seeing. It was Jove's bolt. It was, to borrow from the papists, the bell of the consecration. It was the revelation of the possibility nay the certainty of the probability or somewhat of the kind of the. It was the sharp knife of a sort of truth in the disguise of danger. Both went out together, and it was as if they were entering, rather than leaving, the corridor outside with its sour and burly servant languidly asweep with his broom, the major-domo in livery hovering, transformed to a sweet bower of assignation, though neither knew the other save in a covenant familiar through experience unrecorded and unrecordable whose terms were not of time and to which space was a child's puzzle. #Quote by Anthony Burgess

#39. But I bet they don't know what I saw." Puller sat down in a chair next to her bed. "So why don't you tell me what that was?" Knox glanced at the glass door to her room and saw a police officer, a man in a suit, and a burly MP standing guard there. "They're not taking any chances with you," he said, following her gaze. "Cops, FBI, and the military." She turned back to Puller and slowly but clearly told him what she had seen. The van, the kid, everything. "So it was a deliberate setup the whole way," Puller concluded. "It appeared to be. But why target Carter?" "Well, he heads up an important part of our nation's defenses. He's a target just by virtue #Quote by David Baldacci

#40. Mantova
The first thing I saw in the morning
Was a huge golden bee ploughing
His burly right shoulder into the belly
Of a sleek yellow pear
Low on a bough.
Before he could find that sudden black honey
That squirms around in there
Inside the seed, the tree could not bear any more.
The pear fell to the ground,
With the bee still half alive
Inside its body.
He would have died had I not knelt down
And sliced the pear gently
A little more open.
The bee shuddered, and returned.
Maybe I should have left him a lone there
Drowning in his own delight.
The best days are the first
To flee. #Quote by Richard Wilbur

#41. I need a bodyguard."
Simon eyed him. "Have you been watching The Bodyguard? Because I am not going to fall in love with you and carry you around in my burly arms. #Quote by Cassandra Clare

#42. Newton's laws specifically state that, while the gravity of a planet gets weaker and weaker the farthest from it you travel, there is no distance where the force of gravity reaches zero. The planet Jupiter, with its mighty gravitational field, bats out of harm's way many comets that would otherwise wreak havoc on the inner solar system. Jupiter acts as a gravitational shield for Earth, a burly big brother, allowing long (hundred-million-year) stretches of relative peace and quiet on Earth. Without Jupiter's protection, complex life would have a hard time becoming interestingly complex, always living at risk of extinction from a devastating impact. #Quote by Neil DeGrasse Tyson

#43. She held the paper in her hand for a long time, trying to follow the reasoning by which that thin ragged boy had become in the eyes of a reporter a 'burly Negro.' And she decided that it all depended on where you sat how these things looked. If you looked at them from inside the framework of a fat weekly salary, and you thought of colored people as naturally criminal, then you didn't really see what any Negro looked like. You couldn't because the Negro was never an individual. He was a threat, or an animal, or a curse, or a blight, or a joke. #Quote by Ann Petry

#44. I attempt to surf. I'm not as good as anyone else in the water. I'm more like a beached whale. I just hang out on my board. I can ride, but I get too nervous unless I go with my boyfriend or my trainer. There are too many burly men out there! #Quote by Olesya Rulin

#45. Judd returned during the last hour of my Friday shift. Without seeing him coming as I wiped a table, I knew something was up because two large burly men flinched.
Turning, I found Judd moving fast towards me. Before I could speak, his hands cupped my face and his lips were on mine.
Murmuring at the deepening kiss, I tossed aside the wash towel and wrapped my arms around his waist. He felt like perfection.
Judd pulled away and stated to speak then his gaze focused on the two men watching us and smiling. His dark stare killed their enthusiasm and they returned to eating.
"Back less than a minute and you're already losing me tips," I teased, causing Judd to smile grudging. "You taste like peppermint."
"I slept for shit and chewing gum keeps me alert."
Caressing his lips, I couldn't stop grinning. "You're so fucking beautiful and you're mine. How did that happen?"
Judd finally gave me a great smile. "I laid eyed on you and was done for. #Quote by Bijou Hunter

#46. I didn't process it then, but I look back now in awe that this man wearing eyeliner, heels, and ladies' perfume somehow managed to be more masculine than the burly bodyguard. #Quote by Mayte Garcia

#47. I closed my eyes, feeling sleep steal over me; but the pleasant lassitude fled when the tent flap opened again, this time pulled by a rough hand. Cold air swirled in. I blinked up at a burly helmeted soldier. He held the tent flap aside for a much lighter-boned man, who walked in wearing an anonymous black cloak. The guard let the flap fall, and I heard the gravel crunch under his boots as he took up position outside the tent.
The new arrival sank down onto the camp stool the healer had used, but he didn't say anything, so for a short time we studied one another's faces in the dim light. Large gray eyes surveyed me from my filthy scalp to my bandaged leg. I could read nothing in the man's face beyond that leisurely assessment, so I just stared back, trying to gather my wits as I catalogued his features: a straight nose, the chiseled bones of someone at least Bran's age, a long mouth with the deep corners of someone on the verge of a laugh. All this framed by long pale blond hair tied simply back, under a broad-brimmed but undecorated black hat. His rank was impossible to guess, but his job wasn't--he had to be an interrogator.
So I braced myself for interrogation.
And watched his eyes register this fact, and those mouth corners deepen for just a moment. Then his face blanked again, his gaze resting on mine with mild interest as he said, "What is your name?"
It took a moment for the words to register--for me to realize he did not know who I was! His eyes na #Quote by Sherwood Smith

#48. Oh, those lapses, darling. So many of us walk around letting fly with "errors." We could do better, but we're so slovenly, so rushed amid the hurly-burly of modern life, so imprinted by the "let it all hang out" ethos of the sixties, that we don't bother to observe the "rules" of "correct" grammar.

To a linguist, if I may share, these "rules" occupy the exact same place as the notion of astrology, alchemy, and medicine being based on the four humors. The "rules" make no logical sense in terms of the history of our language, or what languages around the world are like.

Nota bene: linguists savor articulateness in speech and fine composition in writing as much as anyone else. Our position is not - I repeat, not - that we should chuck standards of graceful composition. All of us are agreed that there is usefulness in a standard variety of a language, whose artful and effective usage requires tutelage. No argument there.

The argument is about what constitutes artful and effective usage. Quite a few notions that get around out there have nothing to do with grace or clarity, and are just based on misconceptions about how languages work.

Yet, in my experience, to try to get these things across to laymen often results in the person's verging on anger. There is a sense that these "rules" just must be right, and that linguists' purported expertise on language must be somehow flawed on this score. We are, it is said, permissive - perhaps a #Quote by John McWhorter

#49. Horace, hands on hips, paced around the circle, frowning as he studied them. They were a scruffy bunch, he thought, and none too clean. Their hair and beards were overlong and often gathered in rough and greasy plaits, like Nils's. There were scars and broken noses and cauliflower ears in abundance, as well as the widest assortment of rough tattoos, most of which looked as if they had been carved into the skin with the point of a dagger, after which dye was rubbed into the cut. There were grinning skulls, snakes, wolf heads and strange northern runes. All of the men were burly and thickset. Most had bellies on them that suggested they might be overfond of ale. All in all they were as untidy, rank smelling and rough tongued a bunch of pirates as one could be unlucky enough to run into. Horace turned to Will and his frown faded. 'They're beautiful,' he said. #Quote by John Flanagan

#50. undemonstrative in a burly fat-pig style #Quote by Joseph Conrad

#51. He pushed his way between them with his burly frame and forced her to stand in the cold with him. He flipped the long, silver dagger so its worn handle faced her. "Take your claw, pup," he growled.
This was called White Fang, a blade almost as legendary as the hunter who owned it. It has been long told in the village that as a youth, Wolfsbane had destroyed an entire pack on his own, thus earning his name. #Quote by Jennifer Silverwood

#52. LaHill was a dark, burly fellow whose hair curled out of his clothes wherever it could. #Quote by Philip Roth

#53. Go to the mountains and meditate! If you stay in the hurly-burly of this world, you'll run around in circles without ever finding your way. You'll become the kind of person who just stamps and screams. But the blue mountains are immovable and the white clouds come and go. #Quote by Takashi Nagai

#54. I know that everyone in this room, Bernie Fain included, thinks I'm some kind of a nut with my so-called fixation on this vampire thing. OK, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he only thinks he is. But there are things here that can't be explained away by so-called common sense. Not even Bernie's report can explain some of them.

'I was at the hospital yesterday.' I looked directly at Butcher. 'Your own people fired maybe fifty or sixty rounds at him, some at point-blank range. How come this man never even slowed down? How come a man seventy years old can outrun police cars for more than fifteen blocks? How come when he gets clubbed on the head he doesn't bleed like other people? Look at these photos! There's a gash on his forehead... and whatever is trickling down from the cut is clear... it isn't blood.

'How come three great, big, burly hospital orderlies weighing an estimated total of nearly seven-hundred fifty pounds couldn't bring one, skinny one-hundred sixty pound man to his knees? How come an ex-boxer, a light-heavyweight not long out of the ring, couldn't even faze him with his best punch, a right hook that should have broken his jaw?

'Face it. Whether it's science, witchcraft or black magic, this character has got something going for him you don't know anything about. He doesn't seem to feel pain. Or get winded. And he doesn't seem to be very frightened by guns, or discouraged by your efforts to trap him.

'Look at these photos! Look #Quote by Jeff Rice

#55. The Queue consists entirely of fragments of ochered' dialogue, a linguistic vernacular anchored by the long-suffering word stoyat' (to stand). You stood? Yes, stood. Three hours. Got damaged ones. Wrong size. Here's what the line wasn't: a gray inert nowhere. Imagine instead an all-Soviet public square, a hurly-burly where comrades traded gossip and insults, caught up with news left out of the newspapers, got into fistfights, or enacted comradely feats. In the thirties the NKVD had informers in queues to assess public moods, hurrying the intelligence straight to Stalin's brooding desk. Lines shaped opinions and bred ad hoc communities: citizens from all walks of life standing, united by probably the only truly collective authentic Soviet emotions: yearning and discontent (not to forget the unifying hostility toward war veterans and pregnant women, honored comrades allowed to get goods without a wait). #Quote by Anya Von Bremzen

#56. He smiled affably at the burglar, a burly fellow whom he continued to hold with one hand, as easily as if he had been a child. The entire household had been aroused, and a good number of them had joined in, shouting questions and brandishing various deadly instruments. The burglar glared wildly at Emerson, bare to the waist and bulging with muscle - at Gargery and his cudgel - at Selim, fingering a knife even longer than Nefret's - at assorted footmen armed with pokers, spits, and cleavers - and at the giant form of Daoud advancing purposefully toward him. 'It's a bleedin' army!' he gurgled. 'The lyin' barstard said you was some kind of professor! #Quote by Elizabeth Peters

#57. Steeling herself, she rose out of her chair, looped her arm around Kenny's neck, and planted herself in his lap.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Have I missed something?"
She curled her mouth into what she hoped was a seductive smile and tried to speak without moving her lips. "Kiss me at once."
"No," he said indignantly.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't like your attitude."
She had been a bit bossy, but that was only because she was nervous. "I apologize."
His eyes settled on her mouth. "Okay, I'll kiss you."
The burly man turned away, and she immediately ejected from Kenny's lap. #Quote by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

#58. I'd assumed he'd be old and burly with a side order of crotchety. #Quote by Rachel Hawkins

#59. Good God, it's like a burly pirate landed in my bed and is waiting for another round of debauchery. #Quote by Kristen Callihan

#60. There was some kind of X-men emergency, so all the teachers were gone. This happens every now and then. It's one of the perks of having super heroes for your teachers - when the world is about to end (which is like at least twice a month), school gets canceled. Heck, three weeks ago there was a big chemistry final for the upperclassmen. Beast was the teacher - he's this big, burly guy who can do acrobatic stuff like a monkey, but he also happens to be a super-genius. He's, like, legendary for his tough finals, so there were kids walking through the halls, going, Oh, God, please let Galactus try to eat the earth. Please please please let there be an alien invasion by the Skrulls! #Quote by Barry Lyga

#61. I was sleeping on the couch one afternoon when suddenly I sensed that someone was leaning over me. When I opened my eyes I saw the burly farmer standing there, unbuttoning his pants. Instinctively, I knew what he was up to! Hans wouldn't be as easy to dissuade as the sturdy young man who had guided me up the mountain. With no time to think I let fly with my foot, kicking him in the groin. The force from the kick caused him to inadvertently fall forward, hitting a small end table with his mouth. When this happened he bit his lip and broke his dentures. #Quote by Hank Bracker

#62. With a squeak she flaps her bat shawl and runs. A burly rough pursues with booted strides. He stumbles on the steps, recovers, plunges into gloom. Weak squeaks of laughter are heard, weaker.)_ THE BAWD: _(Her wolfeyes shining)_ #Quote by James Joyce

#63. Ah, fortune and fame shall follow me ... and I shall dwell in the world of the chosen for a few moments of fleeting ecstasy; ere the seven burly lads turn into creditors and hustle me off to debtors' prison at last. #Quote by Hunter S. Thompson

#64. The burly soldier looked up with a smirk from the monitors. "Personal protection, huh? #Quote by J.M. Madden

#65. Well, I haven't heard from you since you went to pick up the treadmill so I am assuming some big, burly, longshoreman has absconded with you and I'll never see you again. And you didn't even get to run on your treadmill! #Quote by Debbie Grant

#66. Sometimes all a breathing attack takes is reassurance. What Pete thought. And a shot of prednisone. And two huffs of the red inhaler, then the white one. And a big burly doctor who looked a little like Ernest Hemingway to place his hand on an arm and keep repeating, "Just a reaction to the altitude, maybe the mist tonight and woodsmoke combined. You'll be fine, fine. There now." And a Latvian in a bathrobe - Oh God! Pete noticed now that she had bare feet! She had not even stopped to put on shoes - a barefoot Latvian to intone, "So beautiful, you really look like an angel," and a one-armed hero who reeks of cigarettes and pot to keep saying happily, "Fuckin' A, look, look at that, breathing fine now, fuckin' A. #Quote by Peter Heller

#67. Afterward, when she thought about it, it seemed to Winnie that the next few minutes were only a blur. First she was kneeling on the ground, insisting on a drink from the spring, and the next thing she knew, she was seized and swung through the air, open-mouthed, and found herself straddling the bouncing back of the fat old horse, with Miles and Jesse trotting along on either side, while Mae ran puffing ahead, dragging on the bridle.
Winnie had often been haunted by visions of what it would be like to be kidnapped. But none of her visions had been like this, with her kidnappers just as alarmed as she was herself. She had always pictured a troupe of burly men with long black moustaches who would tumble her into a blanket and bear her off like a sack of potatoes while she pleaded for mercy. But, instead, it was they, Mae Tuck and Miles and Jesse, who were pleading.
"Please, child…dear, dear child…don't you be scared." This was Mae, trying to run and call back over her shoulder at the same time. "We…wouldn't harm you…for the world."
"If you'd…yelled or anything"--this was Jesse--"someone might've heard you and…that's too risky."
And Miles said, "We'll explain it…soon as we're far enough away."
Winnie herself was speechless. #Quote by Natalie Babbitt