Book, Chapter

 1    2,  37|     THIRTY-THIRD.~Picking his teeth with a silver quill, "Friends,"
 2    2,  46|    like a fuller: water's got teeth and your strength wastes
 3    2,  47|    out of a dunghill with his teeth, any old time. And he grew
 4    2,  57|      a huge wine jar with his teeth. Trimalchio was the only
 5    2,  62|     the bargain. I'll have my teeth into you, either you'll
 6    2,  68|      a blear-eyed slave whose teeth were very disagreeably discolored.
 7    2,  76|     But when, with chattering teeth, we besought the porter
 8    2,  79|     and don't make me show my teeth, my little darling, or you'
 9    4, 123|       that slays men with his teeth shall escape, for by that~
10    5, 139| tearing off the pods with her teeth, spat them upon the ground,
11    5, 160|     servants make me gnash my teeth and bark like a dog, just