"Sagging" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... William's small unpainted dwelling seemed a natural feature of the landscape, but as the years passed and other and more enterprising settlers built big barns, and shining white houses, the gray and leaning stables, sagging gates and roofs of my uncle's farm, became a reproach even in my eyes, so that when I visited it for the last time just before our removal to Iowa, I, too, was a little ashamed of it. Its disorder did not diminish my regard for the ...
— A Son of the Middle Border • Hamlin Garland
... already was sagging sideways over the armrest of this chair, head lolling backwards. The gun slid from his hand, ...
— Oneness • James H. Schmitz
... the pier side he was able to catch a brief glimpse of the passengers as they stepped ashore. He saw the children scurry away, never dreaming that the admired story-teller was immured below. The big girls followed more sedately, and after them the mothers with backs sagging under the weight of babies. Last of all he had the unspeakable chagrin of seeing Corinna pass with ...
— The Deaves Affair • Hulbert Footner
... shapeless mass—his bandana had been torn away, leaving his throat bare—his slicker was a mass of rents and at the neck had been crumpled and torn in a thousand places as though strong teeth had worried it to a rag. Spots of mud were everywhere on his boots, even on his sombrero with its sagging brim, and on one side of his face there was a darker stain. He had ceased his whistling, indeed, but now he stood at the door and hummed as he gazed about the room. Straight to Kate Cumberland he walked, took her hands, and raised her from ...
— The Night Horseman • Max Brand
... rattle of dishes, the clatter of pots and pans, and the rancid odor of frying bacon, bespeaking the fact that somebody's breakfast was under way in the next room to mine. I stepped across the bare, cold floor to the window, and, rolling up the sagging black-muslin blind, looked out upon the world. Bleak and unbeautiful was the prospect that presented itself through the interstices of the spiral fire-escape—a narrow vista strung with clothes-lines and buttressed all about ...
— The Long Day - The Story of a New York Working Girl As Told by Herself • Dorothy Richardson
... friend of friends, an aching fear tugged in his heart that he had waited too long for the chance to help, that the patient strength was sapped at last, that the end had come. He had seen the flight of the maul, the sagging of ...
— The Maid of the Whispering Hills • Vingie E. Roe
... Alice lay in the big bed under the sagging ceiling with a lamentably small baby in her arms, and Greatorex sat beside her by the hour together, with his eyes fixed on her white face. Rowcliffe had told him to be on the lookout for some new thing or for some ...
— The Three Sisters • May Sinclair
... inner scorning for a ritual so antiquated and a gift so obsolete, could do naught but depart. Miss Susie had somehow managed to keep the advantage, and the two white women watched the departing figure shuffle down the walk, out through the sagging, screaky gate. The clouds had broken in the west and a soft golden radiance suffused the row of maples that lined the fence along the street, and the swelling branches gleamed with promise. Over toward the east a patch of blue sky appeared, and then the tip of a sickle moon thrust itself through ...
— Stubble • George Looms
... in his chair. "The first thing I found was a couple of armed guards—a pair of tough-looking citizens with guns sagging at their hips, lounging around the Wire-Silver back door. There is quite a little nest of buildings at the old entrance to the Wire-Silver, and a stockade has been built to enclose them. The old spur runs through a gate in the stockade, and the gate ...
— The Taming of Red Butte Western • Francis Lynde
... end of the third week I got work as an orange-picker. It was a matter of swinging long ladders into fruit-flaunting trees, of sunshiny days and fluttering leaves, of golden branches plundered, and boxes filled from sagging sacks. There is no more ideal occupation. I revelled in it. The others were Mexicans; I was "El Gringo." But on an average I only made fifty cents a day. On one day, when the fruit was unusually ...
— The Trail of '98 - A Northland Romance • Robert W. Service
... in the sound was an indication of vast relief. Women had disappeared out of the orbit in which the crime swung, for Mr. Scanlon. He had gone for days with a fear in his mind, with his spirit sagging under a weight of expectation. But now he was free of that. No woman figured in the case—the murderer had said so in his confession. Woman had vanished utterly from all things having to do with the affair. And so Scanlon laughed—a laugh ...
— Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist • John T. McIntyre
... to have brought it off. Damned good." His eyes looked aloft to the sagging wires of ...
— Men of Affairs • Roland Pertwee
... a long time trying to screw himself up to walk along the jagged six-inch edge of rock between cliff and torrent into which the path has shrunken, to the sagging plank under ...
— The Research Magnificent • H. G. Wells
... against the wood and his body, sagging, lodged there. Life had passed out of the gray face. Larry Red King died standing, with a gun in each hand, and the name of his friend the last word ...
— The U.P. Trail • Zane Grey
... lived here in the Dug Down Mountains for generations. Looking closer from the high, green bald you can see far below in the edge of a dilapidated orchard a lorn grave. Overrun with ivy and thorns it is enclosed with a wire fence, sagging and rusty and held together here and there with ...
— Blue Ridge Country • Jean Thomas
... Bob's sagging head went up. He had remembered Blister's injunction. "All right, Dud. Turn yore wolf loose. I'll ride along ...
— The Fighting Edge • William MacLeod Raine
... the late fifties, was a place of birds and trees and flowers; of rude stone benches, sagging arbors smothered in vines, and cool dirt-paths bordered by sweet-smelling box. Giant magnolias filled the air with their fragrance, and climbing roses played hide and seek among the railings of the rotting fence. Along the shaded walks laughing boys and girls romped ...
— The Fortunes of Oliver Horn • F. Hopkinson Smith |
