"How horrid of you, Eureka!" cried Dorothy.
Get out of here you horrid thing!
A horrid business dragging these corpses about with one!
I'm too nervous to stop in this horrid state where it never ceases raining.
I never could understand how Winston was so positive the person you were following was Jeff when you knew all along it was that other horrid man.
Oh, Dorothy--you can't imagine what horrid things they are!
No doubt many a smiling valley with its stretching cornfields occupies exactly such a "horrid chasm," from which the waters have receded, though it requires the insight and the far sight of the geologist to convince the unsuspecting inhabitants of this fact.
The little slut wouldn't let me come to her apartment so I was forced to smell the horrid blooms, reminding me once more of mother's wake.
I unwearyingly followed the three to that horrid mall and waited for my chance.
I want assurances from you and that horrid old Mr. O'Connor that the integrity of my family name will not be stained with unproven lies!
Perhaps I shall take up these studies later; but I've said goodbye to Mathematics forever, and I assure you, I was delighted to see the last of those horrid goblins!
At the same time, the horrid ritual was so closely associated with Yahweh worship (Ezek.
Prisons were relapsing into their former horrid state of privation, filthiness, severity and neglect."
He even asked John Wesley, in 1739, to desist from preaching in his diocese of Bristol, and in a memorable interview with the great preacher remarked that any claim to the extraordinary gifts of the Holy Spirit was "a horrid thing, a very horrid thing, sir."
1873, p. 31 I) which describes" responsibility " or (sic) " moral desert in the vulgar sense" as " horrid figments of the imagination."
William Gilpin, who is so admirable in all that relates to landscapes, and usually so correct, standing at the head of Loch Fyne, in Scotland, which he describes as "a bay of salt water, sixty or seventy fathoms deep, four miles in breadth," and about fifty miles long, surrounded by mountains, observes, "If we could have seen it immediately after the diluvian crash, or whatever convulsion of nature occasioned it, before the waters gushed in, what a horrid chasm must it have appeared!
The Lombards were still to the Italians a "foul and horrid" race.
"What a horrid, savage beast!" exclaimed a piglet; "and after we've been such good friends, too, and played with one another!"
The story may be contrasted with the Phoenician account of the sacrifice by Cronos (to be identified with El) of his only son, which practically justified the horrid custom.
"Yes, it is all very horrid," interrupted Pierre, "very horrid."