Word: odour
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...tumbling on every level, down to the word itself. The best novels convey the essence of their story in any single sentence.While Ghosh has a capacious imagination and a nimble authorial voice, his prose does not share in the exoticism of his story. There is no “odour of spices creeping through the timbers” in his words, as there is on the Ibis. Ghosh does attempt to evoke that aroma, but to do so he relies on the exoticism of foreign languages rather than the exoticism possible through rhetorical artistry. There are so many imported words...
...Quentin Compson. Drowned in the odour of honeysuckle. 1891-1910.” This seemingly inscrutable epitaph is inscribed onto a brick-sized plaque on the eastern railing of the Larz Anderson Bridge, just down JFK St. The plaque commemorates one of the most notorious freshmen ever to grace Harvard’s campus. Alienated by Northern academic culture, consumed by memories of his Mississippi home, and still lusting after his sister Caddy, Compson was looking for a way out on June 2, 1910. After a day of wandering aimlessly in Boston, he tied a pair of tailor?...
...decades art was made to shock. Now people are turning to art for its ability to soothe. Especially popular in e-mails and chat rooms in recent days is W.H. Auden's poem "September 1, 1939" ("The unmentionable odour of death/Offends the September night"), written as World War II began. TIME asked artists and writers what they were turning...
...there the car engine began making weird sounds as of tin cans rattling around under the bonnet and a very pungent odour assailed our nostrils. On arrival at our destination, ASDAS "shopping mall" as you so quaintly call them, I ups bonnet, the battery is exuding an acrid smoke which almost chokes me. Nothing to see though which could explain the rattling noise, so in we went to the "Shaaping maall" (American Idiom). Hustling around all the glitz and shit on sale to the idiots like us who come every year under the spell of the commercialism...
...disgusting we were. It may well have been the case that in the last years of his life, he laid in front of the fire growling at anyone who approached him, losing great patches of fur on the carpet and only stirring himself occasionally to relieve a slight odour...