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Word: retchingly (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...were awakened by screams. "Missah Morgan! Missah Morgan! Bring de doctorman! This man dead!". This was interspersed with loud retching noises. There was no response from the guard. Finally, I heard one last retch and then silence. The guards did nothing to help. I never found out if he died...

Author: By Terry R. R. roopnaraine, | Title: Four Nights | 1/22/1990 | See Source »

...Marry S. Feldstein. Who's got all of Ec 10 marching in line. Here's a Marx reader for further conjecture. In case you have missed that supplement lecture. For colleagues Stan Hoffman, Carnesale and Nye. More says to make Yankees and Russians say "hi." For Nye for Retch and for Dick Neustadt too. No chants in the Cabinet are waiting for you. Not even the Bay State went for old Fritz--For Labor or Treasury, ply the GOP with your wits...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: A Holiday Ode | 12/18/1984 | See Source »

...respects to our One Billion Red brothers, and this week's trip should be replete with pathetic scenes of inter-ideological friendship, numerous pictures of Nancy and Ronald deftly maneuvering their chopsticks over bowls of rice and chop suey, and enough symbolism to make even TV executives retch...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Flip Flop | 4/28/1984 | See Source »

...were Mason's countrymen. As the fighting intensified, his Huey was frequently an ambulance, and too often a hearse stacked with corpses. "The smell of death seeped out of the zippered pouches and made the living retch," he writes. "No matter how fast I flew, the smell would not blow away." Mason suffered from insomnia, blackouts and nightmares about dying children. He let mosquitoes bite him because malaria was a fail-safe ticket home. When he witnessed two Marines being blown up by a claymore mine they were setting, he reflected, "What's next in this carnival...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Levitation | 8/29/1983 | See Source »

Around midnight, the clubs run out of liquor and every door on Prospect Street spews forth a jubilant stream of staggering sophomores, juniors, and seniors. Leaning on each other, singing, shouting, a few pausing at the gutter to retch quietly for a moment then loudly rejoining the buoyant inebriated throng, they totter off toward the campus or a cafe where they can calm down with a cup of coffee. The fraternal transport is not at is beatific height. Arm in arm they reel indifferent to traffic or the piercing cold: one lifts his hands to the frigid heavens and races...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: 100 Per Cent on Prospect St. | 4/21/1981 | See Source »

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