“Great, Kelly thought, a knot of fear tightening her stomach. A mugger with a taste for Shakespeare. This could only happen in Cental Park.”
“Uh, Anna?" Stepping back from her, he poked a finger into her stomach. "What happened to you?" Anna batted his hand away, her lips tightening in a classic, hormonal mood swing. "You happened to me...ass hat.”
“To think, a sweater, is made entirely of knots. My stomach could clothe a village.”
“I got a huge knot in my stomach because if Antarctica could talk, it would be saying only one thing: you don't belong here.”
“The air seemed poisoned with fear and hatred. People eyed on another suspiciously, and the streets smelled of a silence that knotted your stomach.”
“My stomach is tied up in so many knots it could make a boy scout envious.”