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Word: aglow (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...span of a day, but the wounds beneath lie rank, sore to the touch of Sylvie’s ghost, who—preserved in his nightmares—veils her own ruin: “Sylvie Tanner, looming naked before him, perfectly alive and beautiful, her skin aglow with a pure unrivaled shimmer…would tuck her fingers beneath her fine skin and then, with no effort at all, no pain, peel it off as if it were a full-length glove. She’d do the same with the other arm, and then start in with...

Author: By Denise J. Xu, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Love Prevails in 'Surrendered' | 3/2/2010 | See Source »

...thanks to the sensationalism of The New York Post, it would seem that the entire Muggle world is aglow with a real-life version of the same story: the innocent Emma Watson, Hermione’s real-life alter ego, terrorized by a wicked publication—in this case, The Harvard Voice...

Author: By The Crimson Staff | Title: The Emma Debacle | 10/6/2009 | See Source »

...percussionist on the tour. "Whenever he would do a move, he'd raise the bar." If somebody screwed up, the star took it placidly, saying over and over, "This is what rehearsals are for." He was psyched to see his comeback extravaganza finally taking recognizable shape. "He was aglow that night - aglow and afloat," Johnson says. "His feet barely touched the stage, and he wasn't stressed at all." (See the last pictures of Michael Jackson...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Battle Over Michael Jackson's Legacy | 7/2/2009 | See Source »

...your groove: the first floor theme is Americana and the second is Diaspora. The VIP lounge, Sky Club, will be for the seriously swanky this inauguration. For a breather, leap onto the outdoor deck for a change of pace - inhale the still, January air and appreciate the luminous Potomac aglow under a dimmed night...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: A D.C. Club Guide for Inaugural Weekend | 1/17/2009 | See Source »

...straw and damp flesh burst into and flood the hall. He had come. Yes. He had conquered. A wave of liquid fire consumed her body: the first. Again, a wave. It was an ocean that begged to be released. Her bosom, her legs, her whole being was aglow. Another. Another. Yes. Yes. The waves burst forth from her breast, shrieking like wild horses or a chorus of whores:—Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes.They whispered in, hissed in, licked the whorl of her ear.—Oh, yes.—He is here. He has come...

Author: By Lesley R. Winters, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: The Stable Boy | 10/9/2008 | See Source »

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