I had a dream in which I saw the king's life as a thread tied back to the golden throne that now stands in the cold darkness of Kairn Telest.

Lulled under mild southern sunlight, they remained unaware that larger threads of happenstance tied their favored visitor to an imminent muster of armies.

There was nothing to cling to, no thread to tie her to sanity, and still he drove her harder until the breath tearing from her lungs turned to harsh, primitive pants.

I tied a black thread to a hole punched with an ice pick, ran the thread under the front door, and tied it to my big toe.

The threads binding them were red, black and gold, tied in bands that matched the rhythms of the eagle.

You keep me fully apprised of every move made, every source tapped, every thread tied.

The female servants and female visitors were running constantly to and fro; and there were such multitudinous demands for hot water, such repeated outcries for needles and thread, and so many half-suppressed entreaties of 'Oh, do come and tie me, there's a dear!'