It's like working on an anatomy chart.

The hallway is hung with medical-school anatomy charts; there's a stuffed raven, dead hydrangeas and hundreds of candlelit skeletons, strewn helter-skelter.

They're all muscled like an anatomy chart.

The only comparable exercise young people of my generation had was looking at the anatomy charts in the Encyclopedia Britannica.

And still more are merely cracked, with squiggly lines branching out like the nervous system on an anatomy chart.

In the front there was a raised podium, a dusty blackboard, an overhead rack of ancient anatomy charts, and a standing skeleton.

There were beautifully rendered anatomy charts on the wall, showing skeletal, muscular, and circulatory systems for two genders.

How were these placed relative to the anatomy chart?

"You look like an anatomy chart," says Mr. DeMilia as he watches Ms. Murray work out.

There, my masseuse went at my back as if it were an anatomy chart, picking up each muscle and plucking it so that several were slightly sore the next day.