Word: thrusting
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...just once or twice, wouldn't it be nice if superheroism sprang not from an external accident but from inner strength? If a person achieved greatness rather than having it thrust upon him? If he found a mission, focused his energy, marshalled his talents and just did it? Then his triumph would be sweet indeed: the fulfilling of a resolve or a work ethic, that comic-book readers or movie audiences might recognize in themselves. He'd make a hero of himself, and that would be more than super...
...naked. She was mad for him, mad for the monumental pectorals straining beneath his suspenders.The yellow firmament above the vast courtyard was assuming an ominous gray. The play of moisture and heat in the air made the supple boughs wag. The tumultuous wind tore violently at her hair and thrust its cold cruel fingers through the laces of her bodice.Then came the rains, first in scattered drops that teased her skin with their heated lightness, then in a warm torrent that laved her arms and head and parted the shirt from her bosom and thrust its tongue into her bare...
...accustomed to such concepts as “Spring Break” and “Summer Vacation,” we forget that, once we graduate, the seasons will be things we glimpse in passing through our neighbor’s cubicle window. Of course, when we are thrust into the pell-mell melee that is the corporate world, that internship we had at a reputable firm with an ampersand in its title will look nice on our resume. But is this the best use of our time?To some extent, we have convinced ourselves that...
...recoil so suddenly and retreat stupidly into the hallway.Had the Viscountess been in a reflective mood, she might have considered the possibility that she no longer possessed for him the charms she had once had as a young bride; but that thought was too painful to accept, and she thrust it aside in favor of fury. Yes, he had done it on purpose; he had acted out of unadulterated malice.But the Viscountess had never been one for defeat. She was no shy violet; she would not allow that thing, that pitiful imitation of a man, to trample her again without...
...Audacity of Hope, Barack Obama tells an amusing story about his first tour through downstate Illinois, when he had the audacity to order Dijon mustard on his cheeseburger at a TGI Friday's. His political aide hastily informed the waitress that Obama didn't want Dijon at all, and thrust a yellow bottle of ordinary-American heartland-values mustard at him instead. The perplexed waitress informed Obama that she had Dijon if he wanted. He smiled and said thanks. "As the waitress walked away, I leaned over and whispered that I didn't think there were any photographers around," Obama...