Showing posts with label fury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fury. Show all posts

Monday, 13 September 2010

Built like a champion middleweight



      Now, you know what I think of mortal combat. I’ve run from more than I can count, and never lived to regret it, and this lean ten stone of quivering fighting fury, obviously as nimble as a weasel and built like a champion middleweight, was the last man I wanted to try conclusions with—well, I’d been ill.


Flashman and the Redskins, p.157, Pan Books edition, 1983.



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Friday, 26 February 2010

Sheer fury


…Carmichael-Smith could hardly talk for sheer fury, but he cussed us something primitive…



Flashman in the Great Game, p.145, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Wednesday, 2 December 2009

Drive a woman to fury



…he and Victoria weren’t getting on too well just then; she had just discovered (and confided to Elspeth) that she was in foal for the ninth time, and she took her temper out on dear Albert – the trouble was, he was so bloody patient with her, which can drive a woman to fury faster than anything I know. And he was always right, which was worse. So they weren’t dealing at all well, and he spent most of the daylight hours tramping up Glen bollocks, or whatever they call it, roaring ‘Ze gunn!’ and butchering every animal in view.



Flashman in the Great Game, p.23, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Monday, 8 December 2008

Working like fury



Apart from a broken nose, his skull was fractured in the fall, and for a couple of days he hung on the edge, with a Bristol horse-leech working like fury to save him from going over.



Flash For Freedom!, p.38, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




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