The bullet left a massive, cracked depression on the side of his head, but failed to do any mortal damage.

Deflected by one layer, the bullet failed to cleave the second.

At that short distance his bullets could hardly fail.

Where bullets failed, some freak of chance could always supply doom.

He was confident that explosives could succeed where bullets had failed.

The bullet failed to kill him, and he finished the task by cutting his throat.

The bullet could not fail to hit its mark!

"Fortunately, the bullets failed to strike any vital parts."

His bullets had failed to take effect.

But the hell-hound was well mounted, and the avenging bullets failed to reach their mark.