"Nasal" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... his post; he seated himself on the stone bench, the butt of his musket resting upon the ground between his feet, and the muzzle leaning against his shoulder; the lighted segar dropped from his mouth; he leaned his head against the door-post, extended his feet and legs, and in a few seconds his nasal organ, in strains like the nocturnal song of one of our largest bull-frogs, gave notice that he was "absent without leave" to ...
— An Old Sailor's Yarns • Nathaniel Ames
... with his head on his saddle, was soundly sleeping; his dreams, to judge by the smile on his pleasant countenance, being of a more agreeable nature than the realities of his position. Velasquez had followed his example, and snored in a key that almost induced his chief to awaken him, lest his nasal melody should be heard at too great ...
— Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 367, May 1846 • Various
... development. From the lower Eocene to the lower sub-stage of the middle Oligocene the series is complete, beginning with small and rather lightly built animals. Gradually the stature and massiveness increase, a transverse pair of nasal horns make their appearance and, as these increase in size, the canine tusks and incisors diminish correspondingly. Already in the oldest known genus the number of digits had been reduced to four in the fore-foot ...
— Darwin and Modern Science • A.C. Seward and Others
... mistake! That has always been a dream of the anthropologist; but it is a dream that shows no signs of coming true. All sorts of tests of this kind have been suggested. Cranium, cranial sutures, frontal process, nasal bones, eye, chin, jaws, wisdom teeth, hair, humerus, pelvis, the heart-line across the hand, calf, tibia, heel, colour, and even smell—all these external signs, as well as many more, have been thought, separately or together, to afford the crucial ...
— Anthropology • Robert Marett
... on his charger swooned, Olivier smitten with his death wound. His eyes from bleeding are dimmed and dark, Nor mortal, near or far, can mark; And when his comrade beside him pressed, Fiercely he smote on his golden crest; Down to the nasal the helm he shred, But passed no further, nor pierced his head. Roland marvelled at such a blow, And thus bespake him soft and low: "Hast thou done it, my comrade, wittingly? Roland who loves thee so dear, am I, Thou hast no quarrel with me to seek." Olivier answered, "I ...
— The Book of the Epic • Helene A. Guerber
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