Both were ready to eat nails for Gen if he asked.

"I know these guys coming down on me been eating nails and stuff for breakfast," he said.

He would rather eat nails than show anybody he's hurt."

She's no fool, either, from what I've heard, whether or not her brother eats nails every morning."

You've got to eat nails for breakfast and spit rust out to really make it," he says.

Johnson, an exacting coach, likes players who "eat nails and spit bullets."

"I knew a British aviator in the war - a tough baby, he ate nails for breakfast.

She certainly was not over her fear of the sul'dam, for all she looked as though she could eat nails.

People from Calabria eat nails for breakfast.

Keith can eat nails and sweat rust, and Gram thought he could too."

The passenger cop, a blonde woman who got her iron supply by eating nails for breakfast, said, "You.

"When Mike Benson finds out, he'll eat nails and spit tacks."

Craving someone who eats nails, I almost miss Harold Ickes.

The New York news media, reputed to eat nails for breakfast and disbelieve its various mothers, swallowed it whole.

Eat nails for breakfast.

Eat nails, can walk through walls, blah blah blah.

And the Japanese police--Christ, they're ready to eat nails, they're so angry about what happened.

His father-in-law had iron gray hair and the black eyes Maris had inherited, and looked as if he ate nails for breakfast.

"I eat nails with acid on them for breakfast, Then I kick thunder-lizards around for my morning workout.

Even Prunella made a joke about Mr. Ratburn one time that he eats nails in a cereal bowl for breakfast.

'I'd rather eat nails.'

Though it eats nails for breakfast, it has a peculiar poetic quality that it owes to previous employment as a wood for musical instruments.

Raines took one look al ^e babe in brass and that was the end of his rainbo^ She hammered, eating nails, in the rain.

"The night the cabinet guy was installing the kitchen cabinets, my daughter is in there playing with dolls, and I'm cooking, and my son is eating nails off the floor.

They walked in through the clerks, still hard at work, and up to the desk of the final keeper of the portal, an aged black warrant officer who looked like he ate nails for breakfast.