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Word: prowls (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1990-1999
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Usage:

...complex revolution. The neat little boxes in which we store our finances--mortgage, cash, savings, and so on--are being subdivided in a million ways. Soon you won't recognize them individually. For instance, all your assets could be wrapped into a wealth account that is constantly on the prowl for investing opportunity worldwide...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Big Bank Theory | 4/27/1998 | See Source »

...positive or negative may sometimes be difficult. Most agree that it works in different ways for men and for women (for a biological explanation of this phenomenon, take Science B-29). Yet, those women interviewed agree that the Harvard name is a definite asset for undergraduate men on the prowl...

Author: By Pam Wasserstein, | Title: On the Town | 4/24/1998 | See Source »

...grace. Meerkats (completing The Lion King's "hakuna matata" trio) stand sentinel on a hill, gazing through glass at suspected predators: us. Finally, an ennead of gorillas--four bachelors on one side of a waterfall, a family of five safely on the other--scuff their knuckles as they proudly prowl...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Leisure: Beauty and the Beasts | 4/20/1998 | See Source »

...wasn't too long before the inadequacies of my amateurish style became evident. Given a very large bucket, I might have been able to carry a tune, but usually my singing sounded more like the call of a tomcat on the prowl. My guitar playing was similarly sub-standard, though most wouldn't be able to tell through the jangling of six crudely-tuned strings. And, finally, my harmonica playing--which I'd been toying with for a longer time--was more than enough to set the dog howling in pain and my little brother storming to my room...

Author: By T.j. Kelleher, | Title: Like a Rolling Stone | 3/5/1998 | See Source »

...other day in the dining hall I saw an animal--an overgrown, grotesque beast covered with tangled dark hair, sharp teeth dripping with saliva and long brittle nails evocative of Freddie Kreuger. As I watched him prowl around the dining hall, a hollow hungry look on his face (he must have forgotten his ID card), I wondered why no one else noticed him. Deciding to ignore his foreboding presence, I swiped my card, filled my plate full of chicken fingers and sat down, determined to read my newspaper in peace...

Author: By Amanda P. Fortini, | Title: In the Face of Fear | 2/17/1998 | See Source »

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