Word: wrought
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...mole, peeking his head out from under the earth.” His delivery of “International” brought the song out of its tepid, lyric-dependent existence on the album. Slowing down the pace and varying his intonation gave extra weight to the over-wrought lyrics (“our love is like the border between Greece and Albania”) leading to an epic climax fleshing out the song’s full emotional potential with brutal strength on the line “there is a shortage in the blood supply, but there...
...that Harvard’s answer to Friendster—thefacebook.com—has begun to spread its influence beyond the wrought-iron gates of Harvard Yard to Stanford, Yale, Columbia and other accredited colleges, the unenlightened masses enrolled at these “peer” institutions are beginning to catch on to the College’s online craze. But progress always has its detractors. Students at Columbia renounced the spread of thefacebook.com earlier this week, saying they were “pretty annoyed” and threatening to “Google Bomb?...
...Great. Now look up, above the ground level. What’s there? No idea, eh? Me neither. I had to go look for myself. Here’s what I found: three American flags flying on rooftop poles, a big analog clock mounted above Radio Shack, some fancy wrought iron balconies on the apartments above Toscanini’s and a sign announcing the law offices of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe on the windows above George the Curious. Who would’ve guessed? As pedestrians, I guess we’re only really concerned with the ground floor...
...Harvard she’ll return to in September as a senior is nearly indistinguishable from the one she came to in the September of her freshman year. Although her absence has changed our Harvard, it hasn’t changed Harvard. And ultimately, this may be the change wrought by study abroad: a transformed definition of the Harvard experience instead of a transformed Harvard. For future generations of college students, tango lessons may seem as quintessentially collegiate as Tercentenary Theatre...
...many time-honored traditions: staring at blank sheets of paper (blank virtual sheets of paper, these days); typing out a few tentative words, only to cringe and toss them away; getting angry at people who read the final draft and don’t sense all the brilliant, subtly wrought miracles of language. Ever since that conversation with my blockmate, though, I’ve begun to notice another quality of the writing process that I hadn’t really considered: unabashed navel-gazing...