A bit of wood flew from the castle on the bailey.

Bits and pieces of wreckage should have flown all over.

But a wind came, and the unwetted bits on top flew away.

Blood and bits of meat flew up in a gruesome cloud.

Wood and bits of metal flew into the flame-rent air!

Each time a victim was struck, blood, skin, and bits of bone flew in all directions.

A bit of spittle flew from his mouth as he whipped the animal under him to greater efforts.

Broken bits of thought flew past her attention, like the telegraph poles by the track.

He heard masonry shatter, and then bits of rock flew by his head.

"And you have revolting manners," he added when bits of apple flew.