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Shrivel   /ʃrˈɪvəl/   Listen
Shrivel

verb
(past & past part. shriveled or shrivelled; pres. part. shriveling or shrivelling)
1.
Wither, as with a loss of moisture.  Synonyms: shrink, shrivel up, wither.
2.
Decrease in size, range, or extent.  Synonym: shrink.  "My courage shrivelled when I saw the task before me"



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"Shrivel" Quotes from Famous Books



... the ninety and nine who need no forgiveness, exasperatingly and mathematically virtuous as a dogma, a woman against whom no sort of reproach could be brought, and at the mere sight of whom false witnesses would shrivel up and die, like jelly-fish in the sun. She not only approved of the convent life, but she liked it. She was at liberty to do a thousand things which were not permitted to the nuns, but she had not ...
— Casa Braccio, Volumes 1 and 2 (of 2) • F. Marion Crawford

... his purple umbrella. The rose in his hand shoots its petals up in thin quills of crimson. Then they collapse and shrivel like ...
— Men, Women and Ghosts • Amy Lowell

... Daily labour makes her lose all her freshness and strength, and maternity in the midst of poverty absorbs even the marrow in her bones. When her daily work is ended and she returns home, she has to sweep and wash, and shrivel herself to a mummy before the smoky kitchen stove. I loved Lucy for that reason, because she was consumed and drained by sweating, because she was the girl worker in all her melancholy decadence, born beautiful and made hideous by ...
— The Shadow of the Cathedral • Vicente Blasco Ibanez

... of shade into yellow, level sunshine, in the odors of minty meadows and moist spices of the creekside, they twain seemed to him to be alone in the world. If they loved not each other, why should not the leaves shrivel and fall, the hills split asunder, and the sky rain death upon them? Here she moved at his side—he could stretch out his hand and touch her; his heart sprang towards her, his arms ached for very yearning to clasp her,—his ...
— The Story Of Kennett • Bayard Taylor

... ribbon, old gloves, crumpled flowers, and the like. It goes against the principles of any right-minded female to give away tawdry fineries, and yet—and yet—Could I bear to destroy them? To see those little white gloves shrivel up in the flames, the high heeled little slippers crumple and split? It would seem like making a bonfire ...
— The Lady of the Basement Flat • Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey


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