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Updated: June 20, 2025
His brain already feels the descending horror his bones seem to crack and crumble in the mighty grasp of the iron walls! Unknowing what it is he does, he fumbles in his garment for some weapon of self-destruction. He clenches his throat in his convulsive gripe, as though he would strangle himself at once.
Animals of all kinds which habitually use their voices utter various noises under any strong emotion, as when enraged and preparing to fight; but this may merely be the result of nervous excitement, which leads to the spasmodic contraction of almost all the muscles of the body, as when a man grinds his teeth and clenches his fists in rage or agony.
Chepstow, surprised at the sudden radiance in Nigel's face, seeing before her for the first time a man she could not read, but a man whose physique now forcibly appealed to her seemed to become splendid under some inward influence, as a half-naked athlete's does when he slowly fills his lungs, clenches his fists, and hardens all his muscles. "What is it?" But he did not tell her.
The child becomes insensible, clenches its hands tightly, lips turn blue, and the eyes become fixed, usually frothing from the mouth with head turned back. The convulsion generally lasts two or three minutes; sometimes, however, as long as ten or fifteen minutes, but rarely. REMEDY. Give the child a warm bath and rub gently.
Potin clenches his fist: "I will have the truth from the girl herself! There is something here I do not like!" Roughly he pushes past the artist and mounts to Jehane's room. She is not there, neither is she at her desk. Nor yet down in the village. They search everywhere; there is a hue and cry; people rush to and fro. Then suddenly a shout; and a silence, a dreadful silence.
He needed not the spectacles of books to read nature; he looked inwards and found her there. I cannot say he is everywhere alike. Were he so, I should do him injury to compare him with the greatest of mankind. He is many times flat, insipid; his comic wit degenerating into clenches, his serious swelling into bombast. But he is always great when some great occasion is presented to him.
After which this enlightened writer re-affirms and clenches the judgment he has quoted, by saying, "His admirers, however, if he had admirers in that age, possessed no portion of such enthusiasm."
He clenches his hands, and sets his strong jaw, and the sweat breaks out upon his broad, pale forehead. The man upon the bed, mentally clear, though incapable of coherent speech, is now listening to comments that shall ere long be made by living men upon one who very soon shall be numbered with the dead. "Well, well, don't be hard on the poor beggar!" he hears them saying.
It has been said of Mr. Wordsworth, that "he hates conchology, that he hates the Venus of Medicis." But these, we hope, are mere epigrams and jeux-d'esprit, as far from truth as they are free from malice; a sort of running satire or critical clenches "Where one for sense and one for rhyme Is quite sufficient at one time." We think, however, that if Mr.
He was naturally learned. He needed not the spectacles of books, to read Nature; he looked inwards, and found her there. I cannot say, he is everywhere alike. He is many times flat, insipid: his comic wit degenerating into clenches; his serious swelling, into bombast. "But he is always great, when some great occasion is presented to him.
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