When you're thrown from the back of a horse, sometimes you don't know which end is up.

At this point we don't know which end is up."

I'm so confused, I don't know which end is up.

Unless his whole presence is an act, the guy doesn't know which end is up.

Fortunately, this is one case where you don't need to know which end is up.

This whole infernal business has slid around in my hands so that I don't know which end is up.

I'm just a wage slave but I know which end is up."

You still won't know which end is up.

But when you look for proof, you'll find you won't know which end is up."

Right now I don't even know which end is UP."

You can take my word for it, Pearl Lu really knows which end is up."

"They've messed with your head so bad, you don't know which end is up, Janson.

"They don't know which end is up," Dr. Tim said.

Nobody knows which end is up."

"Aw, Leslie, this day's just been so crazy, I don't know which end is up.

There is no up or down so what happens to sprouts if the root end knows which end is up?

They start raising all sorts of questions in your own head, to the point where you don't know which end is up, what's right and what's wrong."

A traffic jam when everybody is floating, and you don't know which end is up, is about eight times as confusing as an ordinary one.

However, he has shown teapots and stoneware bottles by a young ceramicist, Steven Forster - except that you might not know which end is up.

I may sell Bibles but I know which end is up and I wasn't born yesterday and I know where I'm going!"

You can construct as loopy a document as you want because no one who knows which end is up is ever going to get their hands on it to check it out."

When you admit (as if he didn't know) that you don't know which end is up, he graciously proposes an assortment of salads to be served with soft drinks, tea (with or without mint) or coffee.

'You don't know which end is up, do you, piggy?' she said, wiping his bottom with the clean nappy and then with it in one hand and Alex under the other arm she went back into the bathroom.

I rejected another book - "The Father's Almanac" by S. Adams Sullivan - after reading the author's advice about dressing one's offspring: "Look for a label; labels are always sewn in the back, so you'll at least know which end is up."