Word: skinful
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1950-1959
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...their creations, also vast and devouring if nameless hungers, as well as cosmic yearnings, strange thirsts, occult sensations, murderous rages, vengeful fantasies and imaginings that catalogue all of sin and crime. But, unlike the sorry six from Brooklyn and New Zealand, in them these impulses were contained within the skin's envelope, merely felt and suffered in the private agony of a tormenting preadulthood...
...more than 5 quadrillion tons. Anyone lost at sea? Butterflies offer directions-in-reverse to the nearest coast because their flights over water are generally suicidal-away from land. Trying to make conversation in Tibet? Better stop talking by midmorning. because after that the wind sets up a "howling, skin-blasting roar." Along with such recherche lore. Author Murchie offers straightforward tips on air navigation to those who may feel the need of them. At his infrequent but embarrassing worst, he plays the Whitman-cum-Thomas Wolfe of the skyways: "I winnow the meager facts, seeking to construct truth only...
...horse with no flash of enthusiasm, but somehow in the end the dragon poops out and our knight wins." He glibly switched metaphors to tick off one of democracy's own current ailments: to him, Senator Joseph McCarthy may be viewed without hysterical wailing, as "a bad skin disease, rather than a cancer." Inevitably, onetime Presbyterian Parson Thomas reflected on the day-dreamy luxury of turning back the clock: "I am not such an idiot as to say that if I had my life to live over again I would not change it some, but I would not change...
Twelve years ago he was a foundryman in a Detroit war plant. Today Yerby lives on the French Riviera with his tiny, light-skinned wife Flora and their four children. When he is not whipping out profitable prose in his villa garden in Cimiez, Nice. Author Yerby goes skin-diving in the Mediterranean, skiing in the Alps or whizzing off in his Jaguar XK 120 to attend sports-car races...
...many taken when she was smiling and wide-eyed and alive, has shown her to be as lovely as she was in death-discolored and slashed and broken. No wonder at all that Dr. Sam cried. He could remember well, without looking. Her face was oval, her skin the very fair kind with fine pores. Where there were no wounds, it had a peach-like tint, faintly damp with the dewiness of the newly dead...