marrowfat

About our Eric Garners—too fat, too scared, too noncompliant, too many kids—there are always, as Flagg knows well, excuses.

Give a sweet savour, and a memorial of fine flour, and make a fat offering, and then give place to the physician.

Then a fat, untidy old man appeared in the doorway of a cubicle within the shop, and Edwin Clayhanger blushed.

He wished her mother had not been quite such an appalling person, fat and painted.

It was a spring day, and the fat buds of the chestnuts were bursting into magnificent green plumes.

He controlled himself betimes, bethinking him that, after all, there might be some reason in what this fat fellow said.