A large, heavy volume, typically containing substantial or scholarly content.
Carla stared at the heavy tome on her desk, feeling nervous. She knew that reading such a large, scholarly book would take her hours, and she worried she might not finish it before her test. Still, she opened the tome and began to read.
He stared at the book on the desk. It was so thick and heavy. He did not want to read the entire tome for his history class, but the test was next week. He felt a sense of dread just looking at it.
The library's oldest tome sat on the desk, its thousand pages filled with ancient history. Professor Chen had been reading the massive book for weeks, taking notes on everything from forgotten wars to long-dead kings. She could barely lift it without help.
When Larry tried to read a huge tome on snail racing, he needed a ladder just to see the top of the book. He flipped one page and got tired. By chapter two, he’d grown a beard and the snail had finished three races.
My grandpa bought a giant, dusty tome on ancient philosophy just to use the heavy book as a weapon against the squirrel that keeps stealing his birdseed. He says hitting a squirrel with that much knowledge is the only way it will ever learn its lesson.
The dusty tome sat on the shelf, its thick pages filled with ancient wisdom and knowledge. The scholars eagerly flipped through the heavy book, eager to uncover its secrets and unlock the mysteries within its pages.
Emma's father was a scholar, and his study was filled with dusty tomes and manuscripts. She loved to browse the shelves, running her fingers over the leather bindings and inhaling the musty scent of paper. Each tome held within its pages a world of knowledge, waiting to be discovered.
The air in the dusty library was thick with the scent of decay. The shelves groaned under the weight of ancient tomes, their leather bindings cracked and peeling. As I reached out to touch one, a sudden chill ran down my spine. The tome seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, its pages whispering dark secrets that I couldn't comprehend. I quickly withdrew my hand, feeling a sense of unease wash over me. The tome seemed to be watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake. I knew then that I should never have entered this cursed place.
In the depths of the forsaken library, I deciphered the ancient tome. Its pages, encrusted with the grime of centuries, whispered secrets I dared not comprehend. The room grew heavy with an otherworldly chill, and a sinister glow emanated from the tome's malevolent depths, as if it possessed a malignant life of its own.
As the young wizard entered the dusty library, his eyes were drawn to a massive tome resting on a pedestal in the center of the room. The leather-bound book seemed to glow with ancient power, its pages filled with cryptic symbols and spells. With trembling hands, he reached out to touch the tome, feeling a surge of magic coursing through his veins. As he flipped through the pages, he realized that this was no ordinary book - it was a key to unlocking the secrets of the universe. The tome held the knowledge he needed to save his kingdom from destruction.
When Maya pulled the thick tome from the bottom shelf, she could feel its weight in her hands. This book was larger than all the others she owned and full of pages covered in tiny print. She hoped reading such a scholarly book would help her understand history better.
For my final paper, I had to consult a massive book on economic theory. I dreaded opening the tome, knowing its dense chapters and complex arguments would consume my entire weekend. The sheer weight of it on my desk was a constant, unpleasant reminder of the work ahead.
The librarian handed Marcus the ancient tome with both hands, its leather binding cracked and pages yellowed. He struggled under its weight as he carried it to his desk, knowing the 800-page medieval history book would take him weeks to finish reading for his dissertation.
Gerald proudly lugged his newly borrowed tome into the café, accidentally knocking over three chairs with the sheer heft of the book. As he flopped it open, a cloud of dust billowed out, startling nearby patrons who gawked in disbelief at the mountainous, scholarly volume before him.
When the deranged squirrel launched itself from the curtain rod, Percival instinctively grabbed the nearest object for defense. The weighty tome on medieval farming practices served admirably as a shield, its thousand pages of dense scholarship proving surprisingly effective at deflecting the furry, chittering menace.
As I attempted to lift the hefty tome from the library shelf, I marveled at its sheer size and weight, aware that only someone truly invested in a subject would commit to reading such an immense and scholarly book filled with dense, meticulously referenced material.
The professor assigned a single, ponderous tome on jurisprudence, its dense pages filled with abstruse concepts. He felt a wave of despondency; comprehending the colossal book before the impending deadline seemed like an utterly quixotic task.
The professor dropped the massive tome onto my desk with a thud that made me wince. "You'll need this for your dissertation," she said. I stared at the thousand-page volume on Byzantine jurisprudence, its spine cracked from decades of reluctant graduate students, and wondered if I'd ever finish reading it.
Miriam staggered beneath the weight of the gargantuan chemistry tome, its spine creaking ominously as if protesting her scholarly ambitions. The venerable book, nearly as voluminous as a bulldog and twice as tenacious, threatened to demolish her desk with every enthusiastic page turn, sending her coffee into periodic seismic quivers.
My garrulous aunt, decrying the execrable housefly, ended its paltry existence with one ignominious thwack. Her weapon of choice? A ponderous tome on Byzantine numismatics, proving that even arcane scholarship has a practical, if violent, application in pest control.
Normal — Everyday words worth reinforcing.