What is another word for shrieks?

Pronunciation: [ʃɹˈiːks] (IPA)

Shrieks are loud, piercing screams that can be heard from a distance. These can be described with multiple synonyms that convey different degrees of intensity. Synonyms for shrieks include screeches, yells, squeals, howls, screams, cries, squawks, wails, hollers, shouts, and bawls. Each of these words describes a slightly different type of sound or emotion behind the sound. For instance, a scream suggests fear, while a squawk implies surprise. Meanwhile, a howl might indicate pain, whereas a shriek is more commonly associated with terror. By choosing the right synonym for the context at hand, writers can conjure specific images and emotions in their readers.

What are the paraphrases for Shrieks?

Paraphrases are restatements of text or speech using different words and phrasing to convey the same meaning.
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  • Equivalence

    • Verb, 3rd person singular present
      screams.
  • Forward Entailment

    • Verb, 3rd person singular present
      Cries.
  • Other Related

    • Verb, 3rd person singular present
      howl, howls.

What are the hypernyms for Shrieks?

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

Usage examples for Shrieks

The shrieks and tears of Nell, who seizing the hand of the savage at the same time begged him "to forgive" Stas, would not have availed if Idris had not unexpectedly come to the boy's assistance.
"In Desert and Wilderness"
Henryk Sienkiewicz
The concourse dispersed hurriedly, but on the other hand a mob began to gather behind the detachment and amid wild shrieks accompanied it to the boat.
"In Desert and Wilderness"
Henryk Sienkiewicz
Just then the girls caught sight of Pauline, uttered shrieks, and disappeared down a shady walk.
"Girls of the Forest"
L. T. Meade

Famous quotes with Shrieks

  • I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.
    William Tecumseh Sherman
  • It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, more vengeance, more desolation. War is hell.
    William Tecumseh Sherman
  • “A teacher?” “Yes. He argued that are the gods, that we create our own destiny. That what we are determines what will become of us. In a peasantlike vernacular, we all paint ourselves into corners from which here is no escape simply by being ourselves and interacting with other selves.” “Interesting.” “Well. Yes. There is god of sorts, Croaker. Do you know? Not a mover and shaker, though. Simply a negator. An ender of tales. He has a hunger that cannot be sated. The universe itself will slide down his maw.” “Death?” “I do not want to die, Croaker. All that I am shrieks against the unrighteousness of death. All that I am, was, and probably will be, is shaped by my passion to evade the end of me.” She laughed quietly, but there was a thread of hysteria there. She gestured, indicating the shadowed killing ground below. “I would have built a world in which I was safe. And the cornerstone of my citadel would have been death.” The end of the dream was drawing close. I could not imagine a world without me in it, either. And the inner me was outraged. Is outraged. I have no trouble imagining someone becoming obsessed with escaping death. “I understand.” “Maybe. We’re all equals at the dark gate, no? The sands run for us all. Life is but a flicker shouting into the jaws of eternity. But it seems so damned unfair!”
    Glen Cook
  • You can lock the door upon them, but they burst open their shaky lattices and call out over the house-tops so that men cannot but hear. You hounded wild Rousseau into the meanest garret of the Rue St. Jacques and jeered at his angry shrieks. But the thin, piping tones swelled a hundred years later into the sullen roar of the French Revolution, and civilization to this day is quivering to the reverberations of his voice.
    Jerome K. Jerome
  • Hence, loathèd Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy.
    John Milton

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