n. 1. The act of cursing. 2. A curse. 3. Something that is cursed or loathed.
[He] ran from me tittering execrations, and vowing I had burst his nose.
– Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Category: From Literature
Surfeit
n. 1. a. Overindulgence in food or drink. b. The result of such overindulgence; satiety or disgust. 2. An excessive amount.
He died old and respected — of a surfeit of violets some say — he never could get enough violets.
Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
Espalier
n. 1. A tree or shrub trained to grow in a flat plane against a wall, often in a symmetrical pattern. 2. A trellis or other framework on which an espalier is grown. — tr.v. 1. To train as or on an espalier.
She looked up and spoke to Sabine, who was pushed back against the brick wall as if espaliered there by years of careful pruning.
Ann Patchett, The Magician’s Assistant
Accretion
n. 1. a. Growth or increase in size by gradual external addition, fusion, or inclusion. b. Something added externally to promote such growth or increase.
Now it seemed to Marta that she was filled with a vapor, such a smoke as folk have in their steadings toward the end of winter, that is the accretion of all the fires that have been made over the winter, and all the food that has been cooked, and all the breaths that have been taken.
– Jane Smiley, The Greenlanders
I saw this word at work this week and fell in love with it, and then it appeared in my book today.
Sangfroid
n. Coolness and composure, esp. in trying circumstances.
At least Walter was giving me the respect of being angry. Edna’s unshakable sangfroid had been so minimizing.
Elizabeth Gilbert, City of Girls
Panache
n. 1. Dash; verve. 2. A bunch of feathers or a plume, esp. on a helmet.
Celia didn’t eat anything, but sat quietly on one of the couches, handling her martini glass and cigarette with more panache than anything I’d ever seen.
Elizabeth Gilbert, City of Girls
Jangle
v. 1. To make a harsh metallic sound. To cause to make a harsh discordant sound. 2. To grate on the nerves.
Steffens took me to dinner and tried to calm my nerves, but even with several whiskeys in me, I jangled.
— Paula McLain, The Paris Wife
