A camp cot lay on its side, broken, the blankets strewn over the rocky floor in ragged strips.

The Pump Wagon does not abandon the fight until the combat is complete and one side broken or destroyed.

Suddenly a set of bookcases from Luciar's cabin toppled over the side, banged against the hull, and splashed, broken, into the ocean.

Sheer black cliffs surrounded it on nearly all sides, broken here and there as though cracked by some thunderous upheaval of the mountain.

A series of doors lined either side, broken by an archway leading into what I assumed would be the main living room.

One arm dangled at his side, almost broken by a blow from a tortoise-man's club.

The ch'a bowl lay to one side, broken, its contents spilled across the floor.

Two handsome stone vases lay on their sides, broken.

There were high banks on each side of it, broken here and there, but fairly continuous on the whole, the meaning of which I did not understand.

Two of them: one lying on its side, broken; the other upright, intact, its domed lid securely in place.