Word: clawingly
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...lost his wife and child and determines to carve out his revenge, has never seemed so human or so bleak. It's no longer just a Guignol songfest, staring at its creatures, with fascination but not pity, from an Olympian distance above the cage in which they claw at one another. Inside this sarcophagus of a play, beneath Sondheim's cold-steel lyrics, Burton finds a pulsing, mournful heart...
...first taste of financial independence—and of being broke. I realized that exorbitant meat prices meant that I was going to become a de facto vegetarian, a horrible fate for someone whose truck back home bore the bumper sticker, “I didn’t claw my way to the top of the food chain to eat a salad.” I had developed a life-long aversion to vegetarianism, growing up in a place where most vegetarians and vegans were aged hippies or their equally self-righteous spawn, convinced that in denying themselves protein...
Tracie Hotchner: Oh, violently. It is illegal everywhere in the civilized world except the United States. It is a barbaric practice, in which not just the claw is removed, but the entire first joint of the foot is removed with a garden clipper - they cut off the entire toe at the first joint. So you have animals that are butchered and experience extreme pain, and no longer have the use of their feet for all the things that cats use their feet for - exploring the world, jumping up and down, playing with things. If there are scratching issues, people have...
...explosions, more tear gas. And the gunshots begin. First from the mosque, then in retaliation from the rangers. We are caught in a narrow corridor, bullets slicing through the thick smoke on either side of us. Another canister of tear gas rolls past my feet, spewing cottony clouds that claw at my eyes and tear at my lungs. My sweat, picking up gas particles clinging to my clothes, burns my skin. Someone from the second floor above the gate pours a bucket of water on us. Blissful reprieve, even if it lasts only a few seconds. Eyes streaming, coughing, choking...
...More explosions, more tear gas. And then gunshots--first from the mosque, then in retaliation from the rangers. We are caught in a narrow corridor, bullets slicing through the thick smoke on either side of us. A canister of tear gas rolls past my feet, spewing cottony clouds that claw at my eyes and tear at my lungs. Someone from the second floor above the gate pours a bucket of water on us. Blissful reprieve, if just for a few seconds. Coughing, choking, we scrabble at the front door, battling to get through the narrow passageway, back into the madrasah...