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Word: forehead (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
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Usage:

...loss for words. When a woman cried out in Bengali, he asked his guide, Mother Teresa, to translate. "She's saying she's very, very alone, and she's telling you, 'Come back again.' " The Pontiff, his eyes misting, grasped the woman's head and gently kissed her forehead. Emerging later into the teeming streets, he seemed emotionally drained. "I cannot fully answer all your questions," John Paul told the gathered crowd. "I cannot take away all your pain...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: India a Low-Key Papal Pilgrimage | 2/17/1986 | See Source »

...face is familiar: the high-domed forehead, penetrating eyes and open, boyish smile. His image has been carried aloft like an icon by demonstrators in every major Western capital. His name has become a household word from Jerusalem to New York. Prime Ministers and Presidents, including Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan, have pleaded with the Kremlin to cut short his 13-year sentence. For his sake, rabbis chained themselves to the fence of the Soviet mission to the United Nations. Most eloquent on his behalf has been his wife Avital, an Israeli citizen who has tirelessly campaigned for his release...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Shcharansky: a Latter-Day Job | 2/17/1986 | See Source »

Witnesses said the dead man had been holding up a poster reading "Marcos Concede" when the bullet hit him in the chest, killing him instantly. The woman, 19, was wounded on the forehead...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Assembly Takes Over Election Count | 2/11/1986 | See Source »

...Saves money." He touches a finger to his forehead to indicate shrewdness. His small dark eyes look both cold and imploring...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: A Christmas Story | 12/30/1985 | See Source »

There was no denying it. Peering into the mirror, lamenting the havok sleep wreaked on a delicate head of hair, I discovered that my hairline had moved. I grabbed the sink for support, and ran my hand back from my forehead, flattening the reed-like protrusions that stood in disarray. "We had a little fun while you were asleep," they seemed to say, but I wasn't concerned with them anymore. It was their dead comrades, fallen in the night, which elicited not concern, but utter horror...

Author: By Charles E. Cohen, | Title: A Touch of Chrome | 12/12/1985 | See Source »

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