Word: cheek
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Sanders's best wedged but drooping between his first and second digits and a full glass of not-so-sparkling New York State Champagne balanced on his knee, Schwartz waxed sorrowful and his head bowed low. Soon only a thin stream of years weaving its contoured trail down his cheek interrupted the comatose scene...
...their relationship has been strained by the something that, in Beverly's words, "is basically troubled between us genetically," they do not show it. They still have their private jokes and rituals, such as when Peter kisses Beverly's cheek before she goes onstage and they both whisper their favorite good-luck word: "Merde." Beverly has learned to live with the occasional insinuations that Peter's wealth has floated her career. Once a music publication reported that Peter had bought Westminster Records so that Beverly could record anything she wanted. "I wrote a letter to the editor," she says...
While talking to black Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm about her candidacy for the White House, New York Representative Edward I. Koch put his tongue firmly in his cheek and asked her if she would consider him as a running mate. "No, Ed," muskied Mrs. Chisholm. "I don't think the country is ready for a Jewish Vice President...
...haled into court for assaulting a Roman waiter who had brought him a dish of artichokes, six cooked in oil and six in butter. Caravaggio asked which were which. "Taste them," retorted the waiter, "and you will see." Caravaggio jumped to his feet, laid the man's cheek open with the edge of the dish and tried to skewer him with his rapier. Defamation, rent arrears, carrying an unlicensed sword-the lawsuits piled up until in 1606 Caravaggio murdered a man by knifing him in the groin over a game of tennis and was banished from Rome. There ensued...
Hakim spoke quietly, punctuating his words with whichever hand he was not using to prop up his head. Finally, he stopped talking and leaned back against the pillows piled at the head of his bed. The woman bent further forward, kissed him on the cheek and then walked over to the jail ward's wire-mesh door. As a red headed state policeman negotiated the lock, the young woman looked back at the bed where Malik Hakim, torn tendons in both his legs, lay. Hakim touched his dark, long-fingered hands together, and inclined his head towards them...