Crossword-Solution: BLACKENING
Dictionary
| Word | Word Type | Definition |
|---|---|---|
| Blackening | p. pr. & vb. n. | of Blacken |
We have 1 clue for the answer “BLACKENING”
| Clue | Answers |
|---|---|
| CHANGING TO A DARKER COLOR | 11 answers |
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Dermatological complaint
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Hint 1 meaning
An inflammatory disease of the skin, characterized by the
presence of redness and itching, an eruption of small vesicles, and the
discharge of a watery exudation, which often dries up, leaving the skin
covered with crusts; -- called also tetter, milk crust, and salt rheum.
Hint 2 anagram
EZEMAC
Hint 3 another clue
eruption
12 +1
New Suggestion for "BLACKENING"
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Sentences with BLACKENING (5)
But, at last, above the subsiding red of the fire, above the streaming masses of black smoke and the whitening and blackening tree stumps, and the diminishing numbers of these dim creatures, came the white light of the day.
But although you, De Bracy, and you, Waldemar Fitzurse, are so ready to abandon me, I should not greatly delight to see your heads blackening on Clifford’s gate yonder.
Before blackening the fire with a stoking of coal he pulled up a wooden Bushmills box, turned off the electric bulb overhead, and sat there for a final pipe, watching the rosy shine of the grate.
The entrance hall was mostly stripped and empty; but the pale, sneering faces of one or two of the wicked Ogilvies looked down out of black periwigs and blackening canvas.
Each dusky copse is clad in darkest green: A blackening mass, just edged with silver sheen From yon clear moon, who in her glassy face Seems to reflect the risings of the place.
Quotes with BLACKENING (3)
A Second Childhood.” When all my days are ending And I have no song to sing, I think that I shall not be too old To stare at everything; As I stared once at a nursery door Or a tall tree and a swing. Wherein God’s ponderous mercy hangs On all my sins and me, Because He does not take away The terror from the tree And stones still shine along the road That are and cannot be. Men grow too old for love, my love, Men grow too old for wine, But I shall not grow too old to see Unear…
I wander through each chartered street, Near where the chartered Thames does flow; A mark in every face I meet, Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every man, In every infant’s cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forged manacles I hear: How the chimney-sweeper’s cry Every blackening church appals, And the hapless soldier’s sigh Runs in blood down palace-walls. But most, through midnight streets I hear How the youthful harlot’s curse Blasts the new…
I do not think the long-range bullets I fire provide the mark of a man; I am only dimly aware that they are dehumanising me. They are my opium tto see me through my time here. But with each hit they give, they only provide a feeling respite from the past I cannot escape from and thre present I have chosen to mire myself in. And, grounded as I am in the reality of this hill, I do not yet fully appreciate how this addiction is infecting my future with malediction. With this cli…