Book, Chapter

 1    1,  25|            Psyche would prick my cheeks with her hairpin, and the
 2    1,  27|     chalk in the wrinkles of his cheeks that you might have mistaken
 3    2,  61|     until the tears ran down his cheeks. At last, one of Trimalchio'
 4    2,  74|         try their edges upon our cheeks. Then all of a sudden two
 5    3,  93|          from the portals. Their cheeks wet with weeping, the joy~
 6    5, 130|          the very springs of her cheeks, almost met at the boundary
 7    5, 141|          hair,~And scratched her cheeks: her eyes   shed floods
 8    5, 156|         themselves, those smooth cheeks could not reproduce themselves;
 9    6     | hair-curling chattel scrape~ Thy cheeks: poor wretch, ah' poor and  
10    6     |         those snowy and purplous cheeks whose velvet smoothness