Commensurate - means equal - sounds so intellectual Abhor - sounds kind of harmless and yet so potent, full of deep loathing
Bonhomie, Rubicon, Acquiesce, Importune, Presage, Itinerant, Incipient, Sapient, Suffuse, Chicanery, Umbrage, Demure, Prosaic, Burgeon, Efflorescence, Sentient, Requite, Redaction, Equivocal, Obviate, Hallmark, Nascent, Plaudit, Ephemeral, Promulgate, Vacuous, Lagniappe, Vapid, Mawkish, Ad Hominem, Extemporize, Furlong, Surfeit, Excoriate, Dearth, Forsooth, Palisade, Nebulous, Exigent, Unfettered, Halcyon, Skulk, Recalcitrant, Torrid, Putative, Bon vivant, Abstruse, Nebbish, Loquacious, Atavism, Elan, Sylph, Winsome, Abeyance, Extemporaneous, Stiction, Ostensible, Mordant, Epithet, Maladroit, Zeitgeist, Salient, Stratagem, Bemuse, Elucidate, Cerulean, Bumbershoot, Languid, Impugn, Quid pro quo, Volition, Propitious, Beguile, Lenient, Enervate, Extenuate, Decry, Efficacious, Deleterious, Assay, Wistful, Acolyte, Odious, Ensconce, Primordial, Stultify, and Abrogate. These are my favorites!
Here's your English assignment: Use all of those words in one sentence. (And don't just say, "My favorite words are: bonhomie, etc.") You will be deemed a Hero of Prose if you can do it!
Ha, that's funny! It would be quite the run-on sentence, eh? But it could conceivably be done in a micro story. Any takers? I'd be willing to give it a go. Who am I fooling? A Hero of Prose I'll never be.
My favorite word is pariah. I love how it sounds, especially the last part, with the vowels and then an h. It doesn't sound like any other word in the English language, and its meaning is tragic and thought-provoking.
Why do I feel like I've just been thrust back into AP English?? Really, at 90 words, those are almost 4 weeks worth of my vocab list. Between AP English 11 and AP English 12 we "learned" 1000 words total and most of these words were on one or the other of those lists. They are good words though, I really like that list. I believe my favorite word (for now at least) is between a few: serendipity, circumlocutory, and duplicitous. This may change tomorrow, but for the time-being, I guess I have a thing for the 'S' sound.
You're not alone, ha ha short words are beautiful and far more common. long words just have a way of drwing attention to themselves, those self-absorbed ____s... I just can't think of any short words at the moment
This is my attempt at writing a short story using my this list of my favourite words. The actress and I had taken to frequent the local cinema and the restaurant next to it. She always wore a violet bracelet around each wrist on our nights out, a detail which always gave me the urge to kiss her. I rejoiced in the nuances of the colour purple those armbands had, and the femininity they oozed of. I was all around in awe of her amazingness. She was practically a goddess to me. She wooed me at first sight and I had been living in a limbo of love ever since, but it's only in hindsight that I see it. I was nothing compared to her. Nobody. Zero. I loved her philtrum more than I loved the all of me, to be honest. Heck, I loved her urethra, and even her tampons, more that I loved myself. But there was an invisible chasm between us. She simply flourished as a person all day every day and I cherished her, but she thought everyone beneath her, including me. She believed she could change everybody else, but noone could ever hope to change her. She had left her days as a modest waitress behind her long ago, and began putting emphasis on one thing only: escaping the void that was growing inside of her. She was an heiress after all, and she couldn't have been more emphatic about not caring one bit how much money she spent on herself, and she was all too decisive about not wanting children, and even if she had had a son, he would certainly not be heir to any remainder of his mother's once-great fortune. She shooed away all who dared seek her wealth or her beauty. All but me, that is, but I'll get to that later. She bought an island, for heaven's sakes. I never got to visit it, but from the pictures I saw I'm guesstimating it must have been large enough to house at least a gigantic villa, a private harbour, a peninsula large enough to have its own forest, and, from what I heard, enough land to dominate the local weather conditions, causing dramatic bouts of thunder every now and then during summer. It was her realm, her domain. Her servants were ubiquitous. She even made them prepare a cinematic of what they had been doing, and, more importantly, how much they appreciated her, every time she came visiting. I almost wouldn't be surprised if someone told me now that she had been funding experiments aimed at creating sentient life there. All this and she didn't live there, nor did she even go on holiday there particularly often. Her sphere of influence was much bigger. She spent her time going on shopping sprees during the day and shattering everything she bought in a sort of cataclysm of vitriol in the evenings. Of course, she purchased a duplicate of each of the things she would break, but that didn't stop her seeming insane to me. I actually feared she would lose her sentience. I still loved her a great deal at that time, and my only worry was that her greatness was going to lead to her downfall somehow. And that was exactly what I was witnessing. Not even our win at the world cup that year managed to make her quit breaking things. I considered getting her checked out by a psycologist or something, but I extrapolated, to put it that way, that before a fortnight had passed she would be in an asylum. The whole matter really became a hell of a nuisance. She spoke of a so-called "sundering" that would destroy the world if she didn't figure out some all-important clue to some task she had been assigned. She had taken to completely avoiding physical contact with even me at this point, and although my reply to her saying "I'm sorry, but I'm a bit too tired to do it tonight, honey.", (and, yes, "doing it" is a euphemism meaning ... intercourse), each night was always "Ditto.", I couldn't help but miss her old self, complete with untarnished beauty, an extremely strong sex drive and ... relatively acceptable personality and behavior. Anyway, it was around this time you saw what had become of me and staged an intervention. I finally manned up, broke up with her, sent her to an institution and didn't see her since, and started going out with my friends a whole lot more, and voila, I met my wife of twenty years, who now wears my ex's bracelets that I managed to snatch before leaving her, and the all of you have proved to be friends for life. I don't really know why I bothered you with this strange story, boys, but it's been great to, you know, get it out of my system. So, thanks. Oh, right, as per tradition I should probably give this odd tale a title. Too bad I can't think of a fitting pun. That would've been rather poignant, I think. I guess I'm just a bit too drunk right now. Alright, then, "The Pretty Actress and the Violet Bracelets of Powerful Infatuation" it is. I'll write it down. Cheers, guys. I know, even to me this story doesn't make much sense, but at least it's coherent, and, spoiler alert, the narrator was drunk when he told the story, after all. It was written at 3 am, for whatever that's worth. I'm actually quite proud of the way it ends at some odd version of a cliffhanger and my alluding to different backstories of these characters.
My favorite word just so happens to be an overused, very versatile, and powerful word that starts with the letter F and ends in uck. Firetruck
I've always liked crisp & splash. My favorite random word just because I think it sounds funny is snorkle.
pizzazz, glib, putz, quench... Great words that don't have to be big to have impact - in the right place. Sometimes it really is the company you keep that makes you shine, especially if you're an underused word.
Their, there and they're. These words always keep me on my toes like a set of triplets whose names I must remember.
If this were a proper Ogden Nash poem, it would be: "Macaque! Macaque! They're on the attaque!" But it's (probably) not.
But I'm not an Ogden Nash. Just someone with a mild addiction to puns. That's the only macaque on my back.
I agree. I've always hated monkey for its similarity to donkey, anyway. The only way to pass monkey or donkey through my semi-OCD brain is to use them both in the same context. As you can imagine; it doesn't tend to work very well. Example 1. "Did we evolve from monkeys?!" "No, Ed: Apes. Well, we evolved along with apes ... we're related to them. And we didn't evolve from donkeys, either, by the way." Example 2. There I was, in the thickest of jungles. The sound of chirping grasshoppers, tropic birds' singing all around me, the a quiet rushing noise from the evening breeze hitting the trees, and what I was here for: the chatter of monkeys in my vicinity. I move towards them as silently as I can. What do I see? A donkey carcass! Disgusting! Anyway, I could better hear them talking now. Example 3. Why did Tarzan think there were five monkeys and five donkeys coming? He was ... nevermind. I can't take it anymore.
