What is another word for frowning?

Pronunciation: [fɹˈa͡ʊnɪŋ] (IPA)

Frowning is a common facial expression that indicates displeasure or sadness. However, there are several synonyms that can be used to describe this expression. Grimacing, scowling, and glowering are all similar words that convey a sense of a negative emotion. Frowning can also be described as furrowing one's brow, which is a specific physical movement of the muscles in the forehead. Pouting is another synonym for frowning but has a more childlike connotation. Overall, there are many ways to describe this expression, each with its own subtle nuances. Choosing the right synonym can help convey the exact feeling or emotion being expressed.

Synonyms for Frowning:

What are the paraphrases for Frowning?

Paraphrases are restatements of text or speech using different words and phrasing to convey the same meaning.
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What are the hypernyms for Frowning?

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

What are the opposite words for frowning?

Frowning is a facial expression that shows displeasure, sadness, and dissatisfaction. Its antonyms, on the other hand, express the opposite emotions or sentiments. Firstly, smiling is the most common antonym for frowning, as it conveys happiness, joy, and contentment. Secondly, looking pleased or delighted describe an individual who expresses satisfaction or gratification. Thirdly, grinning connotes mischief or irreverence. Conversely, looking serene or peaceful describes a tranquil, calm, or composed appearance. Lastly, glowing or beaming describes exultation or a sense of pride. In conclusion, the antonyms of frowning involve a gamut of emotions and expressions that connote happiness, contentment, and satisfaction.

What are the antonyms for Frowning?

Usage examples for Frowning

But she had not known how to allow, so she told herself, frowning, for the existence in the subject of her experiment of an unreasonably primitive violence of feeling.
"Jane Oglander"
Marie Belloc Lowndes
Yet Martin knew from the bundle of letters which he was to carry up to Manila that Charlotte was making plans for business life again; and once, when he came into the sitting-room unexpectedly, he found her frowning over her bank book.
"The Locusts' Years"
Mary Helen Fee
She was sitting on her veranda, the letter upon her lap, her brows frowning, her lips pain-drawn, when Kingsnorth approached from his own cottage.
"The Locusts' Years"
Mary Helen Fee

Famous quotes with Frowning

  • We can always find something to be thankful for, and there may be reasons why we ought to be thankful for even those dispensations which appear dark and frowning.
    Albert Barnes
  • Americans seem sometimes to believe that if you are a thinker you must be a frowning bore, because thinking is so damn serious.
    Jacques Maritain
  • But no line of ferocious, lean-faced, swarthy Spaniards appeared. Shouts and cries and the harsh snarl of gunfire suggested the dons were busy, desperately busy, elsewhere in London. When chance swept Shakespeare and Richard Burbage together for a moment, the player said, "Belike they'll make a stand at the tower." "Likely so," Shakespeare agreed unhappily. Those frowning walls had been made to hold back an army, and this... thing he was a part of was anything but. Up Tower Hill, where he'd watched the auto de fe almost a year before. A great roar, a roar full of triumph, rose from the men in front of him as they passed the crest of the hill and swept on towards the Tower Ditch and the walls beyond. And when Shakespeare crested the hill himself, he looked ahead and roared too, in joy and amazement and suddenly flaring hope. Will Kemp had been right, right and more than right. All the gates to the Tower of London stood open.
    Harry Turtledove
  • “So you are still our Master,” said Sabrina. She was frowning. She had come to be afraid again. “Not so!” Lucifer turned, almost in rage. “You are your own masters. Your destiny is yours. Your lives are your own. Do you not see that this means an end to the miraculous? You are at the beginning of a new age for Man, an age of investigation and analysis.” “The Age of Lucifer,” I said, echoing some of His own irony. He saw the joke in it. He smiled. “Man, whether he be Christian or pagan, must lean to rule himself, to understand himself, to take responsibility for himself. There can be no Armageddon now. If Man is destroyed, he shall have destroyed himself.” “So we are to live without aid,” said Sabrina. Her face was clearing. “And without hindrance,” said Lucifer. “It will be your fellows, your children and their children who will find the Cure for the World’s Pain.” “Or perish in the attempt,” said I. “It is a fair risk,” said Lucifer. “And you must remember, von Bek, that it is in my interest that you succeed. I have wisdom and knowledge at your disposal. I always had that gift for Man. And now that I may give it freely I choose not to do so. Each fragment of wisdom shall be earned. And it shall be hard-earned, captain.”
    Michael Moorcock
  • Orgoch gave a most ungentle snort. Orddu, meanwhile, had unfolded a length of brightly woven tapestry and held it out to Taran. “We came to bring you this, my duckling,” she said. “Take it and pay no heed to Orgoch’s grumbling. She’ll have to swallow her disappointment—for lack of anything better.” “I have seen this on your loom,” Taran said, more than a little distrustful. “Why do you offer it to me? I do not ask for it, nor can I pay for it.” “It is yours by right, my robin,” answered Orddu. “It does come from our loom, if you insist on strictest detail, but it was really you who wove it.” Puzzled, Taran looked more closely at the fabric and saw it crowded with images of men and women, of warriors and battles, of birds and animals. “These,” he murmured in wonder, “these are of my own life.” “Of course,” Orddu replied. “The pattern is of your choosing and always was.” “My choosing?” Taran questioned. “Not yours? Yet I believed...” He stopped and raised his eyes to Orddu. “Yes,” he said slowly, “once I did believe the world went at your bidding. I see now it is not so. The strands of life are not woven by three hags or even by three beautiful damsels. The pattern indeed was mine. But here,” he added, frowning as he scanned the final portion of the fabric where the weaving broke off and the threads fell unraveled, “here it is unfinished.” “Naturally,” said Orddu. “You must still choose the pattern, and so must each of you poor, perplexed fledglings, as long as thread remains to be woven.”
    Lloyd Alexander

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