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Word: foreheaded (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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Usage:

...hanger--perhaps the most brilliant characterization--at work in overalls and roller, cursing the Jews and grumbling to himself about politics. Hitler as Chaplin, entertainer. Hitler's face is mocked: the haircut and moustache, his trademarks. Anyone can wear that face--like kindergarten games, drawing the hair over the forehead and the tufted whiskers above the lip on pictures of people in magazines; yes, anyone can look like Adolph Hitler--he is the common man playing out his most banal fantasies. And, the film implies, anyone with the will can be Adolph Hitler. Hitler is climactically embodied by an actor...

Author: By David A. Demilo, | Title: Hitler, Here is Your Victory | 4/23/1980 | See Source »

Three of the sisters are in their late 60s and one is 72. In the house on the left lives Ida Bolton (Nancy Marchand), and she has two problems. One is her husband Carl (Richard Hamilton), a man given to "spells" during which he plants his forehead against the kitchen wall or a tree. In this state, Carl bemoans the fact that he has "lost the fork," meaning the fork in the road of life's choices...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: Close Relations | 4/21/1980 | See Source »

Glancing nervously about the room, McGaw wiped her forehead, pushing her bangs to the side. "I saw him earlier today," she answered. A hush swept over the courtroom as the judge asked her to look again. Prosecutor Burns informed the judge that the courtroom held an "excess of 70 people, 60 per cent Black and 40 per cent white...

Author: By Brenda A. Russell, | Title: In the Name of the Law | 4/4/1980 | See Source »

Bones splintered shattered dissolve in my skin My torso melts, it flows out my shin Open so open, a circular market Cut on my forehead, it glows in the dark...

Author: By Scott J. Michaelsen, | Title: Dada for Lunch | 3/17/1980 | See Source »

...fast. A handsome, twinengine Beechcraft Aztec wheeled out of a hanger, its tall pilot walking behind it in the drizzle. He was dark with a bulky, wool sweater, and brown pants that tapered down to pointed shoes. He had a Gallic look, a black lock folded back from forehead like a bird's wing. I made my approach. He grinned slightly and motioned to the co-pilot's seat...

Author: By Jim Tyson, | Title: Chariots of the Gods | 3/15/1980 | See Source »

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