I looked at my shoulder and saw a javelin stuck in it. I was in shock.

My sole ambition as a composer is to hurl my javelin into the infinite space of the future.

If I could be good at any sport, it'd be javelin. I know a few people I would love to throw a spear at.

After being impaled by a javelin, while officiating- I'm doing fine now, just resting and hanging around.

I am the type of guy that always looks into the future. But, of course, you never completely forget a javelin in your shoulder.

I had one good racket, a Wilson Javelin. It was my favorite racket, and I made the mistake of putting it next to the heater. It just got so hot that it melted.

He grabbed for the coatrack that stood by the door, ripped the coats off it, and flung the door wide, the rack held above his head like a javelin. On the other side of the door was Jace. He blinked. "Is that a coatrack?

If the javelin had hit me 10cm to the left, it would have punctured my lung, 20cm higher the throat, which would have been the worst-case scenario. Just 1cm higher and it would have hit bone, muscle and tendon and that would have been the end of my sporting career.

the [coat] rack above his head like a javelin. On the other side of the door was Jace. He blinked. "Is that a coatrack?" Jordan slammed the coatrack down on the ground and sighed. "If you'd been a vampire, this would have been a lot more useful." "Yes," said Jace. "Or, you know, just someone with a lot of coats.

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