unbeautiful


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unbeautiful

(ʌnˈbjuːtɪfʊl)
adj
lacking beauty; not beautiful
References in classic literature ?
Squat and lean at the same time, asymmetrically limbed, string-muscled as if with lengths of cordage, dirt-caked from infancy save for casual showers, she was as unbeautiful a prototype of woman as he, with a scientist's eye, had ever gazed upon.
A little later Balatta had returned, bringing with her a half-dozen women who, unbeautiful as they were, were patently not so unbeautiful as she.
Suppose there was something else in my life that took the other ninety-nine parts, and, furthermore, that ruined my figure, that put pouches under my eyes and crows-feet in the corners, that made me unbeautiful to look upon and that made my spirit unbeautiful.
You belong with the legions of toil, with all that is low, and vulgar, and unbeautiful.
Who would ever look for music in it, a plain, brown, unbeautiful thing?
Of all unbeautiful and inappropriate conceptions this is
At first glance, on the surface as it were, mold might seem to be unpleasant and unbeautiful, but often under closer scrutiny (like a microscope) a fantastic world within a world is revealed.
One day she was startled to see an old woman there, staring back at her from the other side, a crone without makeup, unbeautiful.
To be sure, in its slow, unbeautiful, utterly unnerving way, Contrapposto Studies is neither lofty nor majestic and proud; its power is subliminal, its formal dignity enforced, fractured, almost spent.
Like a chauffeur, he watched this car, a Hudson, with an informed vigilance' always giving its engine hair-trigger little tinkering of adjustment or friendship, always fearful lest the black body, unbeautiful as his boiled shirts, should lose its outline and gloss.
This was Illinois, west of Chicago--it was flat and suburban and unbeautiful, with highways everywhere and buildings like bunkers and telephone wires looping through everything--but sometimes, as evening descended over the field and the huge halogen lights sizzled on and the horizon turned violet and then indigo and the smell of dew and asphalt and popcorn filled the air, sometimes then there was something to be said for it.
I]f this theory [Bohm's interpretation] is right (and this is one of the things about it that's cheap and unbeautiful, and that I like), then the fundamental laws of the world are cooked up in such a way as to systematically mislead us about themselves.