What is "dead-end"

Usage examples of "dead-end".

Alara spared a pitying thought for poor Shana, confined in a dead-end cavelet at the end of the main cavern, with a stone too large for her to lift blocking the entrance.

Before Gayler, the NSA directorship was generally acknowledged to be a final resting place, a dead-end job from which there was no return.

Mr Etermon taking a z-nap on the divan or stealing into the kitchen to sniff with erotic avidity the sizzling stew, represented quite unconsciously a living refutation of individual immortality, since his whole habitus was a dead-end with nothing in it capable or worthy of transcending the mortal condition.

She was standing at yet another dead-end pathlet, having just about lost herself amidst the palmettos.

The asphalt dead-ended in patches of sprouting mule ears, white lupines, and penstemon getting ready to bloom.

It angled along behind a nameless saloon and dead-ended against a mildew-streaked brix wall.

Hour after hour, day after day, sometimes month after month, the cryptanalyst tortures his brain to find some relationship between the letters that hangs together, does not dead-end in self-contradiction, and leads to additional valid results.

Home was a little behind the main frontage of Grozny, so to speak, a T-shaped pocket, a pleasantly lit little dead-end street called Grozny Close, which protected its hundred or so apartments from the traffic and rush and the slightly higher crime rate of Grozny Street proper.

Three more rights and I found myself on a dead-end street lined with longleaf pines and scrub oaks.

With people starving around the world and the working poor standing with their families in soup kitchen lines, did she have any right to complain about a dead-end life if it was such a comfortable, yuppified dead end?

The path intersected the Margherita Bridge, Via Cola di Riezo, and passed through Piazza del Risorgimento, hitting no churches at all until it dead-ended abruptly at the center of St.

Five 1 he Range Rover sped past dripping trees and dead-end streets, past mansions, sullen and dark behind the gilded gates and iron fences.

We set up roadblocks at every intersection, railroad grade crossing, tollgate, highway exit, and dead-end street.

Consciousness skips a beat, and mental space is instantly renovated, angles and edges begin to develop padding, thoughts wander off from the party to find themselves in dead-end corridors and musty rooms with no doors, popping peanuts one by one into their toothless mouths, muttering solecisms to the lifelike forms on the wallpaper.

The vast majority of fresh meat in the Arenas are fighting for money, for a chance to get out of grinding poverty or dead-end jobs.