Word: hideous
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...scene. We try to think what it can be, and finally we discover it. Right before us stretching over a hundred yards of ground, the walls of the Jefferson Laboratory raise their giant and rigid outlines; their harsh effect lessened by no attempt at any concealment of their hideous nudity. As we rise with a sigh because the field cannot be entirely beautiful after all, we breathe a wish that our landscape gardner would only train a little ivy up the north end of that building, or plant a few young elms in front of it, that its Puritan severity...
...King Lear. Who has ever realized, without the aid of the senses, all the horror and pathos of such a scene as that in which Lear speaks with Edgar and the fool? The majestic madness of the King, the bitter jests and incoherent ditties of the fool, the hideous gibberish of Edgar, each in its peculiar tone telling a story of great and unmerited woe,- what a marvelous harmony of discords! When we have seen this play, we do not, it is true, carry away a single definite impression, or a moral expressed in words; but we do feel...
Brutal, gashed, and swollen faces; wide gaping mouths, which opened for the last time to utter the death-shriek, and are now fixed forever in rigid agony; jagged, discolored teeth, sunken cheeks, knitted brows, dead, sodden eyes, awful contortions, ghastly smiles, hideous leers, faces of men and faces of women, faces of the young and faces of the old, faces which reek with the slime of years of vice and misery and despair; faces which Dante, groping among the damned, might have dragged from hideous, steaming depths of Lethean mud, and flung forth to front the unwilling...
...their vile and the most abandoned of their lost ones, when they throw off the burden of their loathsome lives? They go into the water, as a matter of course, and from the water find their way to the Morgue. The lower half of Paris is covered with sores, hideous sores, like those of the patriarch of Uz, and every day she sits down by the river side and scrapes herself with the rough potsherds of disease and violence. Hence the need of a Morgue. Here is brought the man who slipped while working on the quai, and fell...
...Lord, nothing is hid from thin eye. Thou nasty look down through its comely Mansard roof, and through its thick walls of brick and mortar. Thou knowest its hideous incompleteness within. There is no floor upon which to walk through its lovely corridors or its magnificent halls, no winding stairs by which to ascend its heights, no plaster to hide its grinning walls, no seats, no bell, no furnace, no musical instrument, no library...