"Beak" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... broad and well on the way to portliness. His limbs were massive and slow of movement and his head large, with a mane of slightly graying hair flung back from a wide, unfurrowed brow. Small and very black eyes pierced out from crinkled heavy lids and a bulldog jaw shot out from under a fat beak of a nose. And over the broad expanse of countenance was spread a smile so sweet, so deep, so high that it gave the impression of obscuring the form of features entirely. In point of fact it was a thick and impenetrable veil that the Senator had for long hung before his face from behind ...
— Rose of Old Harpeth • Maria Thompson Daviess
... mountain, in a bare and desert place, And I saw a mighty eagle, and a falcon he did chase; And to me the falcon came, and I hid it in my breast, But the mighty bird, pursuing, came and rent away my vest; And he scattered all the feathers, and blood was on his beak, And ever, as he tore and tore, I heard the falcon shriek;— Now read my vision, damsels, now read my dream to me, For my heart may well be heavy that doleful sight ...
— Mediaeval Tales • Various
... jade, you've all but driven a twenty-pound rooster clean through it—beak, spurs and tail feathers—that's why!" bawled the doctor. "Gad! I shall be black and blue for a fortnight! I'm colicky now: I need ...
— A Woman Named Smith • Marie Conway Oemler
... which I shall carry with me, and preserve the skin, if we get to water to-night. The front part of the neck and underneath the wings is of a beautiful crimson hue, the back is of a light lead colour, the tail square, the beak smaller than a cockatoo's, and the crest the same as a macaw's. After leaving this flat, we passed through some scrub, and came upon another of the same description. Here I narrowly escaped being killed. My attention ...
— Explorations in Australia, The Journals of John McDouall Stuart • John McDouall Stuart
... the stars—with one of those keen profiled men who have such roguish eyes when they come to earth. Frenchmen strolling down the boulevards glanced skywards and smiled. They were brave lads who defended the air of Paris. No Boche would dare to poke the beak of his engine above the housetops. But one or two men were uneasy and stood with strained eyes. There was something peculiar about the cut of those wings en haut. They seemed to bend back at the tips, unlike a Bleriot, with its ...
— The Soul of the War • Philip Gibbs
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