What is another word for sacks?

Pronunciation: [sˈaks] (IPA)

Sacks is a versatile word used to describe various types of bags, containers and receptacles. Some synonyms for the word "sacks"include bags, pouches, totes, knapsacks, backpacks, duffels, satchels, suitcases, packets, purses and gunny sacks. These synonyms are used depending on the context and type of sack required. Bags or sacks are used for carrying items, while pouches are used for smaller things like coins or keys. Totes or knapsacks are ideal for carrying books and other heavy items. Satchels are stylish and suitable for carrying important documents while suitcases and backpacks are commonly used for traveling. In general, "sacks" is a useful term with a plethora of synonymous options available to choose from.

What are the paraphrases for Sacks?

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What are the hypernyms for Sacks?

A hypernym is a word with a broad meaning that encompasses more specific words called hyponyms.

Usage examples for Sacks

They found some old sacks, and on these made their bed.
"Leo the Circus Boy"
Ralph Bonehill
This always held tiny little sacks of candy.
"Frying Pan Farm"
Elizabeth Brown Pryor
We cut the meat from the carcass of the two buffalo and placed it in sacks or rather strong saddle-bags made for that purpose.
"Memoirs of Orange Jacobs"
Orange Jacobs

Famous quotes with Sacks

  • I guess I'm not that aware of such a big fan base. I have a few core people who write me no matter what I'm doing, but I hardly have sacks of mail being dropped on my door!
    Julie Bowen
  • If a chairman sacks the manager he initially appointed, he should go as well.
    Brian Clough
  • Money is the worst currency that ever grew among mankind. This sacks cities, this drives men from their homes, this teaches and corrupts the worthiest minds to turn base deeds.
    Sophocles
  • Manuel Mercado Acosta is an indio from the mountains of Durango. His father operated a mescal distillery before the revolutionaries drove him out. He met my mother while riding a motorcycle in El Paso. Juana Fierro Acosta is my mother. She could have been a singer in a Juarez cantina but instead decided to be Manuel’s wife because he had a slick mustache, a fast bike and promised to take her out of the slums across from the Rio Grande. She had only one demand in return for the two sons and three daughters she would bear him: “No handouts. No relief. I never want to be on welfare.” I doubt he really promised her anything in a very loud, clear voice. My father was a horsetrader even though he got rid of both the mustache and the bike when FDR drafted him, a wetback, into the U.S. Navy on June 22, 1943. He tried to get into the Marines, but when they found out he was a good swimmer and a non-citizen they put him in a sailor suit and made him drive a barge in Okinawa. We lived in a two-room shack without a floor. We had to pump our water and use kerosene if we wanted to read at night. But we never went hungry. My old man always bought the pinto beans and the white flour for the tortillas in 100-pound sacks which my mother used to make dresses, sheets and curtains. We had two acres of land which we planted every year with corn, tomatoes and yellow chiles for the hot sauce. Even before my father woke us, my old ma was busy at work making the tortillas at 5:00 A.M. while he chopped the logs we’d hauled up from the river on the weekends.
    Oscar Zeta Acosta
  • I have been asked, politely and not so politely, why I am myself. This is an accounting any woman will be called on to give if she asserts her will. In the home the question will be couched in a million cruelties, some subtle, some so egregious they rival the injuries of organized war. … It must be admitted that those who want me to account for myself are intrigued in hostile, voyeuristic ways, and their projections of me are not the usual run-of-the-mill rudeness or arrogance to which writers, especially women writers, become accustomed. The work would be enough, even for the unfortunate sad sacks mentioned above. So here's the deal as I see it: I am ambitious — God knows, not for money; in most respects but not all I am honorable; and I wear overalls: kill the bitch. But the bitch is not yet ready to die. Brava, she says, alone in a small room.
    Andrea Dworkin

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