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Word: moaned (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...began to hop excitedly. F had no choice but to comply. She slowly lifted her peacock feather and began to submit to indignations heaped on her body by the unwieldy fat man. As Lother donned his batmask for his final ecstasies, F could not prevent a moan from escaping her lips...

Author: By George H. Rosen, | Title: THE STORY OF F | 3/4/1967 | See Source »

...life-after careers as a sheep-shearer, gold prospector and land speculator in New Zealand and a mapmaker in England-Chichester was struck with sea fever. Though he thought "the whole prospect of the Atlantic so appalling that I can't face it," he nonetheless thrilled to "the moan of the wind in the rigging," loved drawing "deep, mad breaths" in midocean...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: High Seas: With the Moan of the Wind And a Barrel of Beer | 12/16/1966 | See Source »

Most people feel that state governments are dull, and getting duller. To say this one does not have to agree with those would-be Cassandras who moan that the federal government is preempting all fields of activity and is putting the state governments out of business. The lack of creative planning by state governments is a result not so much of an inferior position in the federal system as of political circumstance...

Author: By Michael D. Barone, | Title: The State of the States | 5/19/1966 | See Source »

...permitted himself to range from Bach to Mozart to Prokoviev to Odetta to the Missa Luba to Leadbelly. Running head-on against our various stock responses, he inevitably creates image-sound discords. For me such discords arose between the healing of a leper and a cotton-field blues moan, between the infant Jesus and Odetta's annoyingly mannered "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child...

Author: By Jeremy W. Heist, | Title: The Gospel According to St. Matthew | 4/16/1966 | See Source »

...Tiny Alice. In this adaptation of James Purdy's novel Malcolm, he finds all his own vintage wines in another man's cellar. The trouble is that these wine bottles are now empty, and the wind whistles over them all evening with a low, monotonous, deadly moan...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: Tiny Albee | 1/21/1966 | See Source »

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