Small tongues of fire shot up, blackening the bright cloth, dazzling Nothing's eyes.

There was an explosion, and a tongue of flame shot by my head.

His arms went around her and his tongue shot into her open mouth.

He just got about half his tongue shot away once.

When he lighted the oil a hundred tongues of flame shot up, and the effect was really imposing.

Another tongue of green flame shot out of the widening circle.

Just as his tongue shot out the grasshopper, growing suspicious, jumped for cover.

Again his tongue shot out, and his eyes closed in a swallow of delight.

Her tongue shot out and traced her own lips, taking in the residual taste of himself he'd left behind.

A tongue of fire shot back from the bazooka and an explosion rocked the street outside.