The temperature was not low, but the cutting wind pierced one to the very marrow.
"My Attainment of the Pole"
Frederick A. Cook
With a cutting wind in our faces, feeling with each step the cold more severely to the marrow of our bones, with our bodily energy and our bodily heat decreasing, we had traveled persistently, suffering intolerable pains with every breath.
"My Attainment of the Pole"
Frederick A. Cook
Which came first: the taste buds for what was sweet or the experience tearing into bone marrow?
"Corpus of a Siam Mosquito"
Steven Sills