Perhaps my mother lay on the sofa and cried all afternoon.

My mother lay broken at the foot of the cliff.

Her mother lay in bed propped up by pillows, holding a book.

He became convinced that not his mother but someone else lay in the bed before him.

His mother lay in bed at nights with him; they could not afford a nurse.

In my home my mother lay at the point of death.

His mother had never even laid eyes upon him.

His mother lay with cancer in the hospital across the street.

As I had expected, my mother lay like death on the bed.

I went into the kitchen, where my mother and father lay a few feet from one another in death.