STICKS AND STONES — QUIZ

[Anonymouṡ No.19947744]

[Anonymouṡ No.19947749]

Whether by fists, clubs, bottles, knives, table-legs, light machine-guns or tactical nukes, at the end of the day it's naked force that settles matters.

One hundred exciting quotations to identify. Most proper nouns redacted. Hints on request.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947760]

1)
"What I mean is this," I said. "You're going to leave. That's for sure. Your choice is about how you leave. Either you can walk out of here by yourself, or these other fat boys behind you are going to carry you out in a bucket."
"Oh yeah?" he said.
"For sure," I said. "I'm going to count to three, OK, so you better choose real quick, right?"
He glared at me.
"One," I counted. No response.
"Two," I counted. No response.
Then I cheated.


2)
I was leaning too far over. I knew better. He always slept close to the wall so you had to lean in to reach him. Oh, he was smart. It put you off. I knew better but I was thinking of the ****** kid mother-naked in all that dough. When his arm came up I ducked away but it caught me on the side of the neck, watering my eyes, and I backed off to cough. Pa was on his side, looking at me, his eyes winking, the hand that had hit me a fist in the pillow.

Get the hell out of here.

I didn't say anything — my throat wasn't clear — but I watched him. He was like a mean horse to come at from the rear. It was better, though, he'd hit me. He was bitter when he missed.


3)
"Take that!" cried Sir ******, giving the unfortunate monarch a two-handed swipe on the nob as he was slowly turning his head from side to side, peering in the opposite direction.
King ****** turned round morosely, but his opponent had been too quick for him. He had ambled round so that he was still behind the King, and now gave him another terrific blow in the same place.
"Where are you?" asked King ******.
"Here," cried Sir ******, giving him another.
The poor King turned himself round as nimbly as possible, but Sir ****** had given him the slip again.
"Tally-ho back!" shouted Sir ******, with another wallop.
"I think you're a cad," said the King.
"Wallop!" replied Sir ******, doing it.


4)
— Come, where is this young gallant that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?
— Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.


5)
"Kind of take your goddamned mitt off my shirt," the big man said.
The bouncer frowned. He was not used to being talked to like that. He took his hand off the shirt and doubled it into a fist about the size and color of a large eggplant. He had his job, his reputation for toughness, his public esteem to consider. He considered them for a second and made a mistake. He swung the fist very hard and short with a sudden outward jerk of the elbow and hit the big man on the side of the jaw. A soft sigh went around the room.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947771]

6)
****** reached across the aisle, picked up the end of ******'s long red braid, held it out at arm's length and said in a piercing whisper:

"Carrots! Carrots!"

Then ****** looked at him with a vengeance!
She did more than look. She sprang to her feet, her bright fancies fallen into cureless ruin. She flashed one indignant glance at ****** from eyes whose angry sparkle was swiftly quenched in equally angry tears.
"You mean, hateful boy!" she exclaimed passionately. "How dare you!"
And then — thwack! ****** had brought her slate down on ******'s head and cracked it — slate not head — clear across.


7)
We fell to wrestling again. We rolled all over the floor, in each other's arms, like two huge helpless children. He was naked and goatish under his robe, and I felt suffocated as he rolled over me. I rolled over him. We rolled over me. They rolled over him. We rolled over us.


8)
I hit him I was still trying to hit him long after he was holding my wrists but I still tried then it was like I was looking at him through a piece of coloured glass I could hear my blood and then I could see the sky again and branches against it and the sun slanting through them and he holding me on my feet
did you hit me
I couldnt hear
what
yes how do you feel
all right let go
he let me go I leaned against the rail


9)
****** said afterwards she had never seen such a fuss made about anything in all her life — the way those two bustled about — and the quantity of things they put on — and the trouble they gave her in tying strings and fastening buttons — "Really they'll be more like bundles of old clothes than anything else, by the time they're ready!" she said to herself, as she arranged a bolster round the neck of ******, "to keep his head from being cut off," as he said.
"You know," he added very gravely, "it's one of the most serious things that can possibly happen to one in a battle — to get one's head cut off."


10)
The Englishman's eyes twinkled. He grinned wide, then started to laugh. The Belgian laughed too at the joke. The Englishman clapped his hands against the Belgian's upper arms, and the fingers tightened on the bicep muscles, holding the forger steady, his hands still going through their erotic gestures. The Belgian was still laughing when he got the impression his private parts had been hit by an express train.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947788]

11)
With a hoarse, broken cry, ******, his head reddening with wrath at this insult to his master, staggers to the divan and, shooting out a gaunt hand, plucks a cat by its head from the snowy hill and hurls it at his tormentor. As this happens a cloaked and heavy woman enters the roon. The living missile, hurtling at ******'s face, reaches out one of its white legs and as the youth jerks his head to one side, five claws rip out a crimson wedge from his cheek immediately below the right eye.


12)
The old woman was as always bareheaded. Her thin, light hair, streaked with grey, thickly smeared with grease, was plaited in a rat's tail and fastened by a broken horn comb which stood out on the nape of her neck. As she was so short, the blow fell on the very top of her skull.


13)
What but the wolf's tooth whittled so fine
The fleet limbs of the antelope?
What but fear winged the birds, and hunger
Jeweled with such eyes the great goshawk's head?
Violence has been the sire of all the world's values.


14)
My heart failed me when I saw him squaring at me with every demonstration of mechanical nicety, and eyeing my anatomy as if he were minutely choosing his bone. I never have been so surprised in my life, as I was when I let out the first blow, and saw him lying on his back, looking up at me with a bloody nose and his face exceedingly fore-shortened.
But, he was on his feet directly, and after sponging himself with a great show of dexterity began squaring again. The second greatest surprise I have ever had in my life was seeing him on his back again, looking up at me out of a black eye.


15)
He pushed back the blanket and rolled onto his stomach and cocked the pistol and leveled it at the sky where the clustered stars were burning for eternity. He centered the foresight in the milled groove of the framestrap and holding the piece so he swung it through the dark of the trees with both hands to the darker shape of the visitor.
I'm right here, he said.
The boy swung with the rifle and fired.
You wouldnt of lived anyway, the man said.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947796]

16)
He put on his black leather gloves going up the stairs to the third floor, knocked on the door three times, waited, pulling the right-hand glove on tight, and when ****** opened the door ****** nailed him. One punch, not seeing any need to throw the left. He got his coat from a chair in the sitting room, looked at ****** bent over holding his nose and mouth, blood all over his hands, his shirt, and walked out. Didn't say one word to him.


17)
But when we got into the street I viddied that thinking is for the gloopy ones and that the oomny ones use like inspiration and what Bog sends. For now it was lovely music that came to my aid. There was an auto ittying by and it had its radio on, and I could just slooshy a bar or so of Ludwig van (it was the Violin Concerto, last movement), and I viddied right at once what to do. I said, in like a thick deep goloss: 'Right, ******, now,' and I whished out my cut-throat britva.


18)
When they got back their table was gone. The drinks lay in a pile of glass and icecubes on the wet concrete floor and the table lay caved in a corner. ****** saw one of the legs in someone's hand. The area was clearing fast, people moving along the walls.


19)
Without more words they fell to, and for a space there was no advantage to either blade, ****** was a superb swordsman, and parried with dazzling rapidity; ever and anon he followed up a feint with a lunge that got past his foe's defence, but his shorter reach stood him in ill stead, and he could not drive the steel home. ******, scarcely his inferior in brilliancy, but not quite so nimble in wrist play, forced him back by the weight of his onslaught, hoping suddenly to end all with a favourite thrust, taught him long ago by Barbecue at Rio; but to his astonishment he found this thrust turned aside again and again.


20)
****** said, "You go right and I'll go straight. We'll cut the cock-teasers off."
****** nodded. He was too winded to speak.
He went higher for a while, and then the path began to drop, turning toward the valley. He looked and saw the girls. He saw them crouched behind an outcrop. Maybe they were smiling.
****** took out a cigarette. But he could not get it lit. Then ****** showed up. It did not matter after that.
****** had just wanted to fuck. Or even to see them naked. On the other hand, it was okay with him if it didn't work out.
He never knew what ****** wanted. But it started and ended with a rock. ****** used the same rock on both girls, first on the girl called ****** and then on the one that was supposed to be ******'s.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947807]

21)
There was this terrific battle.
The noise was as much
As the limits of possible noise could take.
There were screams higher groans deeper
Than any ear could hold.
Many eardrums burst and some walls
Collapsed to escape the noise.


22)
As we go up Broadway, headed for Forty-ninth Street, ****** and I see many citizens we know and give them a large hello, and wish them Merry Christmas, and some of these citizens shake hands with Santa Claus, not knowing he is nobody but ******, although later I understand there's some gossip among these citizens because they claim a Santa Claus with such a breath on him as our Santa Claus has is a little out of line.

And once we are somewhat embarrassed when a lot of little kids going home with their parents from a late Christmas party somewhere gather about Santa Claus with shouts of childish glee, and some of them wish to climb up Santa Claus' legs. Naturally, Santa Claus gets a little peevish, and calls them a few names, and one of the parents comes up and wishes to know what is the idea of Santa Claus using such language, and Santa Claus takes a punch at the parent, all of which is no doubt astonishing to the little kids who have an idea of Santa Claus as a very kindly old guy.


23)
****** turned and ran back into the corridor and, quick as he was, the shaggy horror was almost at his heels. Then as the monster rushed past the curtains, from among them catapulted a great form that struck full on the ape-man's shoulders, at the same instant driving the poniard into the brutish back. Thak screamed horribly as the impact knocked him off his feet, and the combatants hit the floor together. Instantly there began a whirl and thrash of limbs, the tearing and rending of a fiendish battle.


24)
On Astur's throat ******
Right firmly pressed his heel,
And thrice and four times tugged amain,
Ere he wrenched out the steel.
"And see," he cried, "the welcome,
Fair guests, that waits you here!
What noble Lucomo comes next
To taste our Roman cheer?"


25)
The bull trotted forward another few steps and stopped again. He was no more than thirty or forty yards from the bear. The bear dropped on all fours, watching the bull. He growled a rough, throaty growl that caused a hundred or so cattle to scatter and run back a short distance. They stopped again to watch. The bull bellowed and slung a string of slobber over his back. He was hot and angry. He pawed the earth again, then lowered his head and charged the bear.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947822]

26)
I could have bolted for the hall door, but it would have been too ignominious. Besides, a little glow of righteous anger was springing up within me. I had been hopelessly in the wrong before, but this man's menaces were putting me in the right.
"I'll trouble you to keep your hands off, sir. I'll not stand it."
"Dear me!" His black moustache lifted and a white fang twinkled in a sneer. "You won't stand it, eh?"
"Don't be such a fool, Professor!" I cried. "What can you hope for? I'm fifteen stone, as hard as nails, and play center three-quarter every Saturday for the London Irish. I'm not the man —"
It was at that moment that he rushed me.


27)
— A light, a light!
— 'Tis he.
— Stand to't.

— It will be rain tonight.
— Let it come down.


28)
****** was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands out desperately as the villagers moved in on her. "It isn't fair," she said. A stone hit her on the side of the head.


29)
Now in my dial of glass appears
the soldier who is going to die.
He smiles, and moves about in ways
his mother knows, habits of his.
The wires touch his face: I cry
NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears

and look, has made a man of dust
of a man of flesh.


30)
The black boy jerked at his arm again, and ****** stopped wigwagging his head. He stood up straight and steady, and his eyes snapped clear. Usually ******'s eyes are half shut and all murked up, like there's milk in them, but this time they came clear as blue neon. And the hand on that arm the black boy was holding commenced to swell up. The staff and most of the rest of the patients were talking among themselves, not paying any attention to this old guy and his old song about being tired, figuring he'd be quietened down as usual and the meeting would go on. They didn't see the hand on the end of that arm pumping bigger and bigger as he clenched and unclenched it. I was the only one who saw it. I saw it swell and clench shut, flow in front of my eyes, become smooth — hard. A big rusty iron ball on the end of a chain. I stared at it and waited, while the black boy gave ******'s arm another jerk toward the dorm.

"Ol' man, I say you got —"

He saw the hand. He tried to edge back away from it, saying "You a good boy, ******," but he was a shade too late. ****** had that big iron ball swinging all the way from his knees. The black boy whammed flat against the wall and stuck, then slid down to the floor like the wall there was greased.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947832]

31)
Indeed, before too long the man was flanked
By muddy souls, and such a conflict seethed
That even now I ask the Lord be thanked.

"To ******!" cried their wrath —
At which, enraged, that ghost of Florence tore
His own flesh, in his frenzy, with his teeth.


32)
Already, he was down on all fours, and if I had posed him with my own hands I could not have obtained better results. His bulging shorts seemed to smile up at me in a sort of inviting, welcoming way.

As ****** had rightly said, there is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. I drew back the leg, and let him have it just where the pants were tightest.


33)
So, soon they topped the hill and raced together
Over an open stretch of herb and heather
Exposed. And instantly the whole sky burned
With fury against them; earth set sudden cups
In thousands for their blood; and the green slope
Chasmed and steepened sheer to infinite space.


34)
"What I don't like about you, ******, is, you come to the Coll. with your stick-up collars an' patent-leather boots, an' you think you can teach us something about bullying. *Do* you think you can teach us anything about bullying? Take out the gag and let him answer."

"No!" — ferociously.

"He says no. Rock him to sleep. ****** can watch."

It needs three boys and two boxing-gloves to rock a boy to sleep. Again the operation has nothing to do with its name. ****** was "rocked" till his eyes set in his head and he gasped and crowed for breath, sick and dizzy.

"My Aunt!" said ******, appalled, from his corner, and turned white.


35)
The Corps developed, it was plain to see,
Courage, endurance, loyalty and skill
To a morale firm as morality,
Hardening him to an instrument, until

The finitude of virtues that were there
Bodied within the swarthy uniform
A compact innocence, childlike and clear,
No doubt could penetrate, no act could harm.

When he stood near the Russian partisan
Being burned alive, he therefore could behold
The ribs wear gently through the darkening skin
And sicken only at the Northern cold,

Could watch the fat burn with a violet flame
And feel disgusted only at the smell,
And judge that all pain finishes the same
As melting quietly by his boots it fell.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947840]

36)
"For God's sake," he said, hearing her but not turning round. "Don't make supper for me. I'm going out."

At that point, ****** simply walked up behind him and without any pause she swing the big frozen leg of lamb high in the air and brought it down as hard as she could on the back of his head.


37)
****** fired, pumped, fired — three went down, one aimed a handgun. ****** pumped, fired, missed — a crate beside the man exploded. ****** jumped on the platform — the inmate squeezed a shot. ****** caught it in the face, spun, hit the tracks.

The shooter ran. ****** pumped, hit empty. He dropped his shotgun, pulled his .38 — one, two, three, four, five, six shots — hits in the back, he was killing a dead man. Noise outside the car — convicts on the tracks by ******'s body. Deputies behind them firing close — buckshot and blood, black/red air.


38)
******, speaking with difficulty because of the fingers on his throat, said: "This is the second time you've put your hands on me." His eyes, though the throttling pressure on his throat made them bulge, were cold and menacing.

"Yes," ****** growled. "And when you're slapped you'll take it and like it."


39)
It is grim earnest now, and no mistake. Both boys feel this, and summon every power of head, hand, and eye to their aid. A piece of luck on either side, a foot slipping, a blow getting well home, or another fall, may decide it. ****** works slowly round for an opening; he has all the legs, and can choose his own time. ****** waits for the attack, and hopes to finish it by some heavy right-handed blow. As they quarter slowly over the ground, the evening sun comes out from behind a cloud and falls full on ******'s face. ****** darts in; the heavy right hand is delivered, but only grazes his head. A short rally at close quarters, and they close; in another moment ****** is thrown again heavily for the third time.


40)
One brown shoe left the floor. It would have stepped half across ******. The vulnerable arch would be open above ******'s head.
******'s muscles coiled like a snake's. His right hand flickered a few centimetres to the hard stitching on the edge of the case. Pressed sideways. Felt the narrow shaft of the knife. Drew it softly half way out without moving his arm.
The brown heel lifted off the ground. The toe bent and took the weight.
Now the second foot had gone.
Softly move the weight here, take the purchase there, grasp the knife hard so that it wouldn't turn on a bone, and then...
In one violent corkscrew of motion, ******'s body twisted up from the floor.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947853]

41)
When the wood, green though it was, was about to blaze, I drew it out of the fire glowing with heat, and my men gathered round me, for heaven had filled their hearts with courage. We drove the sharp end of the beam into the monster's eye, and bearing upon it with all my weight I kept turning it round and round as though I were boring a hole in a ship's plank with an auger, which two men with a wheel and strap can keep on turning as long as they choose. Even thus did we bore the red hot beam into his eye, till the boiling blood bubbled all over it as we worked it round and round, so that the steam from the burning eyeball scalded his eyelids and eyebrows, and the roots of the eye sputtered in the fire.


42)
— Ah'll gie ye fackin cheers, ya cunt! he sneers, smacking Double Voddy in the face, knocking him ower. A white tooth flies like a bullet oot ay the guy's mooth, and lands a few feet away on the precinct tiles.


43)
****** drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:
"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep."
The new boy stepped over promptly, and said:
"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it."
"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out."
"Well, you said you'd do it — why don't you do it?"
"By jingo! for two cents I will do it."
The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out with derision. ****** struck them to the ground.


44)
Some time toward midnight ****** and ****** stood face to face discussing, in impassioned voices, whether ****** had any right to mention ******'s name.
"******! ******! ******!" shouted ******. "I'll say it whenever I want to! ******! ***—"
Making a short deft movement, ****** broke her nose with his open hand.


45)
The razor hung between his shoulder-blades from a loop of cotton string round his neck inside his shirt. The same motion of the hand which brought the razor forward over his shoulder flipped the blade open and freed it from the cord, the blade opening on until the back edge of it lay across the knuckles of his fist, his thumb pressing the handle into his closing fingers, so that in the second before the half-drawn pistol exploded he actually struck at the white man's throat not with the blade but with a sweeping motion of his fist, following through in the same motion so that not even the first jet of blood touched his hand or arm.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947857]

46)
****** is three and when he's bad
his mother dances with him.
She puts on the record,
'Red Roses for a Blue Lady'
and throws him across the room.


47)
"Shove off," I said.
"You're shoving off. But not before –" He struck out with his fist; I sidestepped, but not quickly enough, and he hit my cheekbone, cutting it with something (a ring, I realized afterwards). But I thought it was a razor, so I hit him in the Adam's apple. He gave a sound half-way between a baby's gurgle and a death-rattle and staggered away from me, his hands to his throat.


48)
The goat started to jump. It jumped to amazing heights. I had no idea a goat could jump so high. But the back of the cage was a high and smooth cement wall.
With sudden ease the trapdoor slid open. Silence fell again, except for bleating and the click-click of the goat's hooves against the floor.
A streak of black and orange flowed from one cage to the next.


49)
Get a shot off fast. This upsets him long enough to let you make your second shot perfect.


50)
I asked him to show me the nearest way out of the forest. I grew eloquent. His reply was exceedingly confused. Either I didn't understand a word he said, or he didn't understand a word I said, or he knew nothing, or he wanted to keep me near him. It was towards this fourth hypothesis that in all modesty I leaned, for when I made to go, he held me back by the sleeve. So I smartly freed a crutch and dealt him a good dint on the skull. That calmed him. The dirty old brute. I got up and went on. But I hadn't gone more than a few paces, and for me at this time a few paces meant something, when I turned and went back to where he lay, to examine him. Seeing he had not ceased to breathe I contented myself with giving him a few warm kicks in the ribs, with my heels. This is how I went about it. I carefully chose the most favourable position, a few paces from the body, with my back of course turned to it. Then, nicely balanced on my crutches, I began to swing, backwards, forwards, feet pressed together, or rather legs pressed together, for how could I press my feet together, with my legs in the state they were? But how could I press my legs together, in the state they were? I pressed them together, that's all I can tell you. Take it or leave it. Or I didn't press them together. What can that possibly matter? I swung, that's all that matters, in an ever-widening arc, until I decided the moment had come and launched myself forward with all my strength and consequently, a moment later, backward, which gave the desired result.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947899]

51)
****** seemed a little elevated; he was singing. His belt-buckle gleamed. He came on unsuspectingly.

We seized the bed-cover, made a quick leap, threw it over his head from behind and pulled it round him so that he stood there in a white sack unable to raise his arms. The singing stopped. The next moment ****** was there, and spreading his arms he shoved us back in order to be first in. He put himself in position with evident satisfaction, raised his arm like a signal-mast and his hand like a coal-shovel and fetched such a blow on the white sack as would have felled an ox.


52)
The man turned sideways in the bushes and looked at ****** along his shoulder. A stick rose upright and there was a lump of bone in the middle. ****** peered at the stick and the lump of bone and the small eyes in the bone things over the face. Suddenly ****** understood that the man was holding the stick out to him but neither he nor ****** could reach across the river. He would have laughed if it were not for the echo of the screaming in his head. The stick began to grow shorter at both ends. Then it shot out to full length again. The dead tree by ******'s ear acquired a voice.

"Clop!"

His ears twitched and he turned to the tree. By his face there had grown a twig: a twig that smelt of other, and of goose, and of the bitter berries that ******'s stomach told him he must not eat.


53)
And it came to pass, when ****** arose, and came and drew nigh to meet ******, that ****** hasted, and ran toward the army to meet ******.

And ****** put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote ****** in his forehead, that the stone sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth.


54)
They kicked me to the head of the stairs, and stretched me over a guard-bench, pommelling me. Two knelt on my ankles, bearing down on the back of my knees, while two more twisted my wrists till they cracked, and then crushed them and my neck against the wood. The corporal had run downstairs; and now came back with a whip of the Circassian sort, a thong of supple black hide, rounded, and tapering from the thickness of a thumb at the grip (which was wrapped in silver) down to a hard point finer than a pencil.


55)
She stared into his face. "We do not forget," she said. "And you, you knocked me on the head there, high up in the mast. I shall give you that blow back." With that she smacked him on the ear as hard as she could, so that his head swam. "Now we are quits," she said, gave him a great, mischievous, shining glance, and a little push down the doorstep, and nodded to him.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947909]

56)
"Do I understand," said ******, withdrawing his sword for a moment and speaking very sternly, "that you do not intend to give me satisfaction?"

"I don't know what you mean," said ******, nursing his hand. "If you don't know how to take a joke I shan't bother my head about you."

"Then take that," said ******, "and that — to teach you manners — and the respect due to a knight — and a Mouse — and a Mouse's tail —" and at each word he gave ****** a blow with the side of his rapier, which was thin, fine dwarf-tempered steel and as supple and effective as a birch rod.


57)
The house by this time had gone mad, and it was his house, nearly every voice yelling: "Go it, ******!" "Get 'im! Get 'im!" "You've got 'im, ******! You've got 'im!" It was to be a whirlwind finish, and that was what a ringside audience paid to see.

And ******, who for half an hour had conserved his strength, now expended it prodigally in the one great effort he knew he had in him. It was his one chance — now or not at all. His strength was waning fast, and his hope was that before the last of it ebbed out of him he would have beaten his opponent down for the count.


58)
****** strolled back up to the head of the queue. The man at the door thrust out an arm to bar his way.
"Where d'you think you're going, pal?" he said.
"I have an appointment with Mr. ******," said ******.
"And he knows about this, does he?" said the guard, in tones that suggested that he personally would not believe it even if he saw it written on the sky.
"Not yet," said ******.
"Well, my friend, in that case you can just get yourself to—"
"******?"
"Yes, Mr. ******?"
"Hit this man."
"Right you are, Mr. ******."
******'s arm whirled around in a 180 degree arc with oblivion on the end of it. The guard was lifted off his feet and smashed through the door, coming to a stop in its wreckage twenty feet away. There was a cheer from the queue.


59)
****** took his hands away from his face and looked about for ******, and ****** slashed at his eyes. The big face was covered with blood. ****** yelled again, "I said get him."

******'s fist was swinging when ****** reached for it. The next minute ****** was flopping like a fish on a line, and his closed fist was lost in ******'s big hand. ****** ran down the room. "Leggo of him, ******. Let go."


60)
****** hit him again hard in the mouth and ****** laughed at him, showing the yellow, bad, broken teeth in the reddened line of his mouth.

"Leave it alone," ****** said and reached with a cup to scoop some wine from the bowl. "Nobody here has cojones to kill me and this of the hands is silly."

[Anonymouṡ No.19947914]

61)
****** ran to his car and the others jumped in and on the fenders or held on to the open doors, and ****** chased the doggies down the street. Two of them continued running toward the gate, but the third panicked and tried to climb over the fence and ****** tried to squash him against it with the car but the doggie pulled his legs up just before the car bumped the fence. The guys jumped off the fender and leaped on the doggies back and yanked him down and he fell on the edge of the hood and then to the ground.


62)
He was writhing and kicking. She saw his face beneath her, white, with eyes like the eyes of a fish, stony, yet full of hate and horrible fear. And she loathed him, the hideous writhing thing that was nearly too much for her. In horror lest he should overcome her, and yet at the heart quite calm, she brought down the cane again and again, whilst he struggled making inarticulate noises, and lunging vicious kicks at her. With one hand she managed to hold him, and now and then the cane came down on him. He writhed, like a mad thing. But the pain of the strokes cut through his writhing, vicious, coward's courage, bit deeper, till at last, with a long whimper that became a yell, he went limp. She let him go, and he rushed at her, his teeth and eyes glinting. There was a second of agonized terror in her heart: he was a beast thing. Then she caught him, and the cane came down on him. A few times, madly, in a frenzy, he lunged and writhed, to kick her. But again the cane broke him, he sank with a howling yell on the floor, and like a beaten beast lay there yelling.


63)
This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain:
Send not your foolish and feeble; send me your strong and your sane.
Strong for the red rage of battle; sane, for I harry them sore;
Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core...


64)
For a moment, the others backed away and ****** lay motionless. They were all wondering if he was dead.

******, however, was trying to figure out a way to forestall vengeance. To keep them from taking him in a pack tomorrow. I have to win this now, and for all time, or I'll fight it every day and it will get worse and worse.


65)
According to the laws of dueling at that period, ****** was at liberty to assist whom he pleased. While he was endeavoring to find out which of his companions stood in greatest need, he caught a glance from ******. The glance was of sublime eloquence. ****** would have died rather than appeal for help; but he could look, and with that look ask assistance. ****** interpreted it; with a terrible bound he sprang to the side of ******, crying, "To me, Monsieur Guardsman; I will slay you!"

[Anonymouṡ No.19947922]

66)
At length the torturer stamped his foot. The wheel began to turn. ****** wavered beneath his bonds. The amazement which was suddenly depicted upon his deformed face caused the bursts of laughter to redouble around him.

All at once, at the moment when the wheel in its revolution presented to Master ****** the humped back of ******, Master ****** raised his arm; the fine thongs whistled sharply through the air, like a handful of adders, and fell with fury upon the wretch's shoulders.


67)
"Listen to me," he said after a short pause. "I know what you did — at least, I can guess the great part of it. When you left your brother you were racked with no unrighteous rage to the extent even that you snatched up the small hammer, half inclined to kill him with his foulness on his mouth. Recoiling, you thrust it under your buttoned coat instead, and rushed into the church. You pray wildly in many places, under the angel window, upon the platform above, and on a higher platform still, from which you could see the colonel's Eastern hat like the back of a green beetle crawling about. Then something snapped in your soul, and you let God's thunderbolt fall."


68)
All at once, I saw two figures: one a little man who was stumping along eastward at a good walk, and the other a girl of maybe eight or ten who was running as hard as she was able down a cross street. Well, sir, the two ran into one another naturally enough at the corner; and then came the horrible part of the thing; for the man trampled calmly over the child's body and left her screaming on the ground. It sounds nothing to hear, but it was hellish to see.


69)
First, ****** secretly cut ******'s cords with his dagger. He was unperceived by the ******s, who had finished their meat by now but were still seated drinking at the table. Then, nudging ****** to preparedness, he took a great fistful of ground pepper and came up to the table and whirled it in their faces, blinding all six of them. Up jumped ****** with a roar, brandishing the red-hot spit which ****** had put to heat in the hearth; and ******, ****** and the porter ran to catch up their weapons, which had been stacked not far from them.


70)
The bum stops sobbing abruptly and sits up, looking for the fiver or, I presume, his bottle of Thunderbird. I reach out and touch his face gently once more with compassion and whisper, "Do you know what a fucking loser you are?" He starts nodding helplessly and I pull out a long, thin knife with a serrated edge and, being very careful not to kill him, push maybe half an inch of the blade into his right eye, flicking the handle up, instantly popping the retina.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947934]

71)
This ****** anon let fly a fart,
As great as it had been a thunder dent;
That with the stroke he was well nigh y-blent;
But he was ready with his iron hot,
And ****** amid the erse he smote.
Off went the skin an handbreadth all about.


72)
What made the sight sickening was ******'s complete subjection, but it was perhaps this that saved his life. He clung to the iron railings with his hands so that ****** could not drag him into the street and despite his obvious equal strength, still refused to fight back. He let the blows rain on his unprotected head and neck until ******'s rage ebbed. Finally, his chest heaving, ****** looked down at him and said, "You dirty bastard, you ever beat up my sister again I'll kill you."

These words released the tension. Because of course, if ****** intended to kill the man he would never have uttered the threat.


73)
****** no longer saw anything clearly; he could not have said at that moment where his hands ended and the machine gun began; he was lost in a vast moil of noise out of which individual screams and shouts etched in his mind for an instant. He could never have counted the Japanese who charged across the river; he knew only that his finger was rigid on the trigger bar. He could not have loosened it. In those few moments he felt no sense of danger. He just kept firing.


74)
Going close up to the young sailor, and laying a soothing hand on his shoulder, he said, "There is no hurry, my boy. Take your time, take your time." Contrary to the effect intended, these words so fatherly in tone, doubtless touching ******'s heart to the quick, prompted yet more violent efforts at utterance — efforts soon ending for the time in confirming the paralysis, and bringing to his face an expression which was as a crucifixion to behold. The next instant, quick as the flame from a discharged cannon at night, his right arm shot out, and ****** dropped to the deck. Whether intentionally or but owing to the young athlete's superior height, the blow had taken effect fully upon the forehead, so shapely and intellectual-looking a feature in the Master-at-arms; so that the body fell over lengthwise, like a heavy plank tilted from erectness. A gasp or two, and he lay motionless.


75)
He smiled at ******, a brown-stained smile. He placed his hand on ******'s heart and, leaning to him intimately as though to kiss him, he bit ******'s lips off and spit them on the floor.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947945]

76)
I jumped into the first trench. Stumbling round the first traverse I collided with an English officer with an open tunic and his tie hanging loose. I did without my revolver, and seizing him by the throat flung him against the sandbags, where he collapsed. Behind me the head of an old major appeared. He was shouting to me, 'Shoot the hound dead.'

I left this to those behind me and turned to the lower trench. It seethed with English. I fired off my cartridges so fiercely that I pressed the trigger ten times at least after the last shot. A man next me threw bombs among them as they scrambled to get away. A dish-shaped helmet was sent spinning high in the air.


77)
There was a piercing scream from the woods, followed closely by a pistol report. "Does it seem right to you, lady, that one is punished a heap and another ain't punished at all?"
"Jesus!" the old lady cried. "You've got good blood! I know you wouldn't shoot a lady! I know you come from nice people! Pray! Jesus, you ought not to shoot a lady. I'll give you all the money I've got!"
"Lady," ****** said, looking beyond her far into the woods, "there never was a body that give the undertaker a tip."


78)
As I hit, the Y-rack on my shoulders launched two small H.E. bombs a couple of hundred yards each way to my right and left flanks but I never saw what they did as just then my first rocket hit — that unmistakable (if you've ever seen one) brilliance of an atomic explosion. It was just a peewee, of course, less than two kilotons nominal yield, with tamper and implosion squeeze to produce results from a less-than-critical mass — but then who wants to be bunk mates with a cosmic catastrophe?


79)
"Lighten up. You want to buy some good free base?" She pulled up a chair and quickly sat before either of them could stop her. She was barely inside my field of vision, a thin girl with mirrored glasses, her dark hair cut in a rough shag. She wore black leather, open over a T-shirt slashed diagonally with stripes of red and black. "Eight thou a gram weight."

****** snorted his exasperation and tried to slap her out of the chair. Somehow he didn't quite connect, and her hand came up and seemed to brush his wrist as it passed. Bright blood sprayed the table. He was clutching his wrist white-knuckle tight, blood trickling from between his fingers.

But hadn't her hand been empty?


80)
With a sudden mad access of strength, he wrestled the battleclub from the grip of the startled robot, executed a dazzling banking turn in the air, hurtled back down in a furious power-drive and with one crazy swing knocked the robot's head from the robot's shoulders.

"Are you coming now?" said ******.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947954]

81)
His head jerked sideways, his hat darted across the deck: a musket-ball from the corsair had nicked his ear. It was perfectly numb under his investigating hand, and it was pouring with blood. He stepped down from the rail, craning his head out sideways to bleed to windward, while his right hand sheltered his precious epaulette from the flow. '******,' he shouted, bending to keep his eyes on the galley under the taut arch of the square mainsail, 'bring me an old coat and another handkerchief.'


82)
Sir ****** still held his lance high. But now he couched it, leaning forward in the saddle. He had more control of the lance now. Would he feint again?

Forty yards.

There was no way to know. ****** decided to go for the chest strike. He put his lance in position. He would not move it again.

Thirty yards.

He heard the thunder of hooves, the roar of the crowd. The medieval texts warned, "Do not close your eyes at the moment of impact. Keep your eyes open to make the hit."

Twenty yards.

His eyes were open.


83)
"All those legs. Why's it need so many legs, ******?"

"That's the way spiders are," ****** said, his heart pounding; he had difficulty breathing. "Eight legs."

Rising to her feet, ****** said, "You know what I think, ******? I think it doesn't need all those legs."

"Eight?" ****** said. "Why couldn't it get by on four? Cut four off and see." Impulsively opening her purse she produced a pair of clean, sharp cuticle scissors, which she passed to ******.


84)
A touch of discord in the Lydian harmonies gave an almost unbearable poignancy to the beatitude. ****** sighed again. There was a knocking at the door. He looked up. The lines of mockery came back into his face, the corners of the mouth became once more ironic.

"There, he's the demon again," thought ******. "He's come to life and he's the demon."

"There they are," ****** was saying and without answering ******'s question "Who?" he walked out of the room.

****** and ****** remained by the gramophone, listening to the revelation of heaven. A deafening explosion, a shout, another explosion and another, suddenly shattered the paradise of sound.


85)
Gathering fury, ****** stirred on the crag, and lowered the black maw of a grenade launcher.

"I made you," came the meaningless noise.

It hated noise and motion. It was in its nature to hate them. Angrily, the grenade launcher spoke. And then there was blessed stasis for the rest of the night.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947964]

86)
This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd,
As with the force of winds and waters pent,
When Mountains tremble, those two massie Pillars
With horrible convulsion to and fro,
He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew
The whole roof after them...


87)
****** had an arm around ******'s neck, and with his other hand he was trying to press ******'s head over it, which would definitely have killed him. But there is a blow they teach at Sarratt for cramped spaces that is called the 'tiger's claw' and is delivered by driving the heel of the hand upwards into the opponent's windpipe, keeping the arm crooked and the fingers pressed back for tension. ****** did that now, and ******'s head hit the back window so hard that the safety glass starred.


88)
******'s
defunct
. . . who used to
. . . ride a watersmooth-silver
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat


89)
Now, ****** had a wife, and her name was ******. So, when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done; to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners and cast them into his dungeon for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, and whither they were bound; and he told her. Then she advised him, that when he arose in the morning, he should beat them without any mercy. So, when he arose, he getteth him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon to them, and there first fell to abusing them as if they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor.


90)
The little King stood, alert but at graceful ease, and caught and turned aside the thick rain of blows with a facility and precision which set the motley on-lookers wild with admiration; and every now and then, when his practised eye detected an opening, and a lightning-swift rap upon ******'s head followed as a result, the storm of cheers and laughter that swept the place was something wonderful to hear.

[Anonymouṡ No.19947967]

91)
"I see no one here," said ******, looking at the men sitting on the benches, "who would not think it beneath him to wrestle with thee; let somebody, however, call hither that old crone, my nurse ******, and let ****** wrestle with her if he will. She has thrown to the ground many a man not less strong and mighty than this ****** is."

A toothless old woman then entered the hall, and was told by ****** to take hold of ******. The tale is shortly told. The more ****** tightened his hold on the crone the firmer she stood.


92)
Today, at one part, which is only twenty yards away from an occupied German sap, I went along whistling ‘The Farmer's Boy', to keep up my spirits, when suddenly I saw a group bending over a man lying at the bottom of the trench. He was making a snoring noise mixed with animal groans. At my feet lay the cap he had worn, splashed with his brains. I had never seen human brains before; I somehow regarded them as a poetical figment.


93)
****** seized the kitten by the neck and stood up. It dangled dumbly from his fingers. He checked himself for pity; like a lighted window seen from an express train, it flickered for an instant in the distance and disappeared.


94)
Instantly they fettered him, and carried him away to the regiment. There he was made to wheel about to the right, and to the left, to draw
his rammer, to return his rammer, to present, to fire, to march, and they gave him thirty blows with a cudgel. The next day he did his exercise a little less badly, and he received but twenty blows. The day following they gave him only ten, and he was regarded by his comrades as a prodigy.


95)
13. Eusa wuz angre he wuz in rayj & he kep pulin on the Littl Man the Addoms owt strecht arms. The Littl Man the Addom he begun tu cum a part he cryd, I wan tu go I wan tu stay. Eusa sed, Tel mor. The Addom sed, I wan tu dark I wan tu lyt I wan tu day I wan tu nyt. Eusa sed, Tel mor. The Addom sed, I wan tu woman I wan tu man. Eusa sed, Tel mor. The Addom sed, I wan tu plus I wan tu minus I wan tu big I wan tu littl I wan tu aul I wan tu nuthing.

14. Eusa sed, Stop ryt thayr thats the No. I wan. I wan that aul or nuthing No. The Littl Man the Addom he cudn stop tho. He wuz ded. Pult in 2 lyk he wuz a chikken. Eusa screamt he felt lyk his oan bele ben pult in 2 & evere thing rushin owt uv him.

15. Owt uv thay 2 peaces uv the Littl Shynin Man the Addom thayr cum shyningnes in wayvs in spredin circels...

[Anonymouṡ No.19947975]

96)
Every nerve in my body was a steel spring, and my grip closed on the revolver. The trigger gave, and the smooth underbelly of the butt jogged my palm. And so, with that crisp, whipcrack sound, it all began. I shook off my sweat and the clinging veil of light. I knew I'd shattered the balance of the day, the spacious calm of this beach on which I had been happy. But I fired four shots more into the inert body, on which they left no visible trace. And each successive shot was another loud, fateful rap on the door of my undoing.


97)
But never did ******, as he thought he did,
end anyone and hacks her body up
and hide the pieces where they may be found.
He knows: he went over everyone, & nobody's missing.
Often he reckons, in the dawn, them up.
Nobody is ever missing.


98)
The unwieldy old man, lowering his big forehead like an ox under a yoke, made an effort to rise, clutching at the flintlock pistols on his knees. From his throat came gurgling, choking, inhuman sounds, and his two attendants helped him from behind. People remarked that the ring which he had dropped on his lap fell and rolled against the foot of the white man, and that poor ****** glanced down at the talisman that had opened for him the door of fame, love, and success within the wall of forests fringed with white foam, within the coast that under the western sun looks like the very stronghold of the night. ******, struggling to keep his feet, made with his two supporters a swaying, tottering group; his little eyes stared with an expression of mad pain, of rage, with a ferocious glitter, which the bystanders noticed; and then, while ****** stood stiffened and with bared head in the light of torches, looking him straight in the face, he clung heavily with his left arm round the neck of a bowed youth, and lifting deliberately his right, shot his son's friend through the chest.


99)
. . . . . . . Set you down this.
And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
Beat a Venetian and traduc'd the state,
I took by the throat, the circumcised dog,
And smote him, thus.


100)
He got off at the fifth floor, walked down the hall, and let himself into 507. The room smelled of new calfskin luggage and nail-lacquer remover.

He glanced at the girl lying asleep on one of the twin beds. Then he went over to one of the pieces of luggage, opened it, and from under a pile of shorts and undershirts he took out an Ortgies calibre 7.65 automatic. He released the magazine, looked at it, then reinserted it. He cocked the piece. Then he went over and sat down on the unoccupied twin bed, looked at the girl, aimed the pistol, and fired a bullet through his right temple.

[Anonymous No.19948086]

>>19947771
Holy fuck anon, how long does this take you?
also I only recognize the naked and goatish one from lolita

[Anonymouṡ No.19948137]

>>19948086
#7 is indeed Lolita, yes. HH and Quilty struggling like two out-of-condition not-young men, haha.

>how long
A while-ish. But I just do a few every now and then.

[Anonymous No.19948718]

>>19947744
17 A Clockwork Orange
24 This is from the poem that chuds like to quote about Horatius Cocles "Thus spake the brave Horatius / the captain of the gate / to every man upon this earth / death cometh soon or late" etc Don't know the author
31 Divine Comedy, trickier would be figuring out the translation (I don't know)
41 prose (cringe) translation of the Odyssey
42 I haven't read it but I'll guess Trainspotting
66 Notre-Dame de Paris?
71 one of the Canterbury Tales
86 Samson Agonistes, Milton?

[Anonymouṡ No.19948853]

>>19948718

17 — Yep. Good old Alex. The language makes this not-too-hard I guess.

24 — Yep. "And how can man die better / Than braving fearful odds / For the ashes of his fathers / And the temples of his gods". It's Macaulay, Lays of Ancient Rome.

31 — Yep. Filippo Argenti is the bloke. The translation would be hard to nail since it's my own, not published yet.

41 — Correct. Polyphemus getting his comeuppance. Samuel Butler's translation. (I haven't got around to Homer yet.)

42 — Correct. I suppose Scottish dialect + general high spirits point in that direction.

66 — Yes, Victor Hugo. "Humped back" is a clue.

71 — Yep. Miller's tale.

86 — Yep. Good guess though blank verse plus pulling pillars down narrows the list I suppose.

[Anonymouṡ No.19950147]

OK, a quick bump before bed.

Hints to be going on with:

— The authors of 23, 49, 63, 68, 69, 78 and 92 have the same first name
— Likewise 50 and 52 (maybe)
— 12 & 15 should be easiest

[Anonymouṡ No.19951959]

Saturday morning bump.

47, 59, 87, 89, 97 authors have same first name.

Several are at least as well known as films:
16, 30, 37, 38, 40, 48, 54,70, 81, 83.

[Anonymous No.19952068]

The N word.

[Anonymous No.19952709]

>6 Anne of Green Gables. One of my favorite books as a child, partially because I was already a huge fan of the Anime adaptation.
>63 The poems literal name is The Law of Yukon. It comes from the Songs of a Sourdough.
>91 It's from Gylfaginning of the Prose Edda, and it's about Thor's encounter with Skrýmir.

[Anonymouṡ No.19952781]

>>19952709

6 — Yes
63 — Yes. Maybe I should have censored Yukon", hehe.
91 — Yes, Thor getting hoodwinked by the giants. He's a fine fellow, Thor, but not too bright.

These definitely aren't three I expected to be solved early.

[Anonymouṡ No.19954475]

Answers found so far:

6 — Anne of Green Gables, L.M.Montgomery
7 — Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
17 — A Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess
24 — Horatius (Lays of Ancient Rome), Macaulay
31 — Divine Comedy, Dante
41 — Odyssey, Homer (Butler translation)
42 — Trainspotting, Irvine Welsh
63 — The Law of Yukon (Songs of a Sourdough), Robert Service
66 — The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Victor Hugo
71 — The Miller's Tale (The Canterbury Tales), Chaucer
86 — Samson Agonistes, Milton
91 — Prose Edda (Thor's encounter with the Giants)

Further hint:
2, 4, 8, 52, 79's authors have the same first name.

[Anonymouṡ No.19955942]

Last bump before bed.

[Anonymous No.19956018]

One of the best threads in a long time, thank you Lichtenstein anon for this treat

[Anonymous No.19956047]

76 must be Ernst Junger's Storm of Steel, although I do not recognise the passage. Probably read a different edition or translation, but referring to a traverse gives it away

[Anonymouṡ No.19957389]

>>19956047

76 — Yes. The image of the helmet like a spinning plate I thought was memorable. Junger is very visual like that. It's all a series of snapshots.

[Anonymous No.19957979]

>>19957389
Of course we’ll never know how much is fact and how much is fiction, but the way he writes and the things he chooses to give more weight to reveal just how much of a born-soldier he was. A true warrior in the classic sense

[Anonymouṡ No.19959462]

Couple more hints to keep things going.

2, 22, 23, 28, 35, 45, 55, 57, 67, 77, 79, 85, 100 are short stories.

49 is from a collection of epigrams, supposedly by the main character of the book.

[Anonymouṡ No.19960937]

OK, one last bump I guess.