When I jerked it out the head remained in my leg, where it remains still. There were a couple of inches of blood on the shaft of the arrow when I pulled it out.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
What you're looking at there is my arm, going into the rock... and there it is - stuck. It's been without circulation for 24 hours. It's pretty well gone.
My scar is beautiful. It looks like an arrow.
As the eagle was killed by the arrow winged with his own feather, so the hand of the world is wounded by its own skill.
A longbow takes a massive draw for the arrow to go anywhere.
I at once commenced the ascent through a shower of arrows.
I looked at my shoulder and saw a javelin stuck in it. I was in shock.
An arrow may fly through the air and leave no trace; but an ill thought leaves a trail like a serpent.
I almost chopped my thumb off once. Just before I left home, I was about ten or eleven years old, and I was trying to open a bone. Can you imagine that? A bone! I was trying to get the marrow out of a bone, and I took the ax, and I went to chop it, and something slipped, and the ax went right down there and damn near cut it off.
I was lucky that it hit my shaft, and then my helmet, and I was lucky enough to get that breakaway.
Sometimes I feel my arm is like a swan's neck - so weak.
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