LSAT Vocabulary: Description

Talk between the law library stacks stayed muted, soft enough that the next table missed most of it.

Neon letters on the neighborhood council banner were garish, painfully bright against the plain brick.

Dust had left the clinic's waiting-room curtains dingy, gray and dull along the hems.

Every brief cover on the small firm's table was pristine, bright white with no mark on it.

Carved leaves and gilt scrolls made the hearing room bench ornate.

Bare white walls and no pictures left the law library's new wing looking stark.

Beyond the clinic window, the street was hazy, and the buildings were soft shapes rather than clear lines.

A solid panel made the small firm's privacy screen opaque, so no note behind it could be seen.

Pale light and blurred shapes came through the hearing room's translucent frosted door, but no face was clear.

Brown spots scattered over the ink left the law library's old map mottled.

Washed-out white paint made the clinic hallway look pallid, closer to gray than to white.

Late light turned the neighborhood council's brick front ruddy, a warm red across the wall.

The small firm's nameplate was glossy enough to mirror the ceiling lights in a smooth shine.

With a flat finish and no glare, the hearing room's wooden rail was matte.

A flat brown with no pattern left the law library carpet looking drab.

Cheap glitter crowded the clinic's holiday sign and made it gaudy.

Dark panels swallowed the light and left the neighborhood council chamber somber.

The hearing room was cavernous, with a high empty ceiling that made one voice seem small.

Boxes pressed against both walls left the small firm's file room cramped.

Sharp corners and straight edges made the law library's new desks angular.

Matching windows and lamps on each side of the door left the clinic entrance symmetrical.

The neighborhood council's banner hung lopsided, much lower on the left than on the right.

Sun and rain had left the hearing room's outer steps weathered, the stone pitted and gray.

Dark spots had stolen the shine from the small firm's brass lamp, leaving it tarnished.

Rubbed until the wood held a warm shine, the law library rail was burnished.

A thin coat of gold on the clinic's old frame left it gilded where the window light caught it.

Washed nearly to white, the neighborhood council's flag was faded.

Gray, cream, and green veins ran together in the hearing room's variegated marble floor.

As the small firm's glass award turned, it looked iridescent, flashing blue and then gold.

Weak bulbs left the law library stacks dim, and most of the aisle stayed in low light.

A hard white light from the clinic's exam lamp was glaring and washed out the chart.

Dark patches sat between the few lamps, so the neighborhood council hallway was shadowy.

Papers, pens, and cups covered every inch of the small firm's cluttered desk.

Nothing hung on the hearing room's side wall, which stayed barren from end to end.

Thick green vines covered the brick and made the law library courtyard verdant.

Under the lights, the clinic's ceiling tiles looked ashen, a flat pale gray.

The neighborhood council's old paint was sallow, a sickly yellow rather than white.

Creases ran across the small firm's exhibit cloth, leaving it rumpled on the table.

At the corners, the hearing room cushion was threadbare, the fabric worn thin.

Smooth unbroken lines made the law library's new chairs sleek.

Rough, uneven slabs made the clinic's stone path rugged underfoot.

Pale scratches crossed the wood, so the neighborhood council's floor looked scuffed.

No fingerprint or grain of dust showed on the small firm's immaculate glass table.

A film of dirt along the paint left the hearing room's window ledge grubby.

Darker patches showed through the paint, leaving the law library plaster blotchy.

Tiny dark dots spread across the pale surface of the clinic's speckled countertop.

Swirling gray veins crossed the white of the small firm's marbled folder covers.

The hearing room curtain was so thin the hallway lights showed through, because the cloth was sheer.

Stiff hairs on the law library's desk brush were bristly and prickly against the hand.

Under a light press, the clinic's wrist pad was spongy and gave way softly.

The neighborhood council's leather folder was supple and bent easily in the hand.

Still sticky to the touch, the small firm's new label was tacky.

Thin dark lines ran with the grain of the hearing room's striated wood panel.

Black and cream squares repeated down the aisle of the law library's checkered floor.

Every letter on the clinic's new signs was the same deep blue, so the signs were monochrome.

Against the pale board, the neighborhood council's map pins were vivid, a sharp bright red.

A soft gray that did not catch the eye made the small firm's wall color subdued.

Ceiling tubes in the hearing room were fluorescent and cast a cold glow over the benches.

Warm daylight covered the long tables, and the law library reading room was sunlit.

In the clinic's empty hall, each footstep returned as a deep ring, and the space was resonant.

Through the closed door, neighborhood council voices were muffled and hard to catch.

A thin high tone from the small firm's alarm was shrill and cut across the room.

Chairs scraped and several people talked loudly at once, and the hearing room grew raucous.

The law library's old clock was melodious, its chime clear and sweet.

Sounding together, the clinic's two alarms were dissonant, and the tones clashed.

Phones, voices, and a rolling cart made the neighborhood council hallway cacophonous with harsh noise.

In the small firm's library corner, speech dropped to very quiet voices, and the corner was hushed.

A door slam in the hearing room was thunderous, a huge boom that filled the chamber.

Through the law library speaker, the announcement sounded tinny, thin and like metal.

A low rough sound from the clinic intercom was gravelly and scraped across the words.

The neighborhood council gavel strike was sonorous, a full rich tone in the hall.

Under the conversation, the small firm's lobby music was dulcet, sweet and soft.

The hearing room microphone made the voice strident, a harsh tone that kept pressing on the ear.

Under the law library windows, the radiator was sibilant, a steady hiss.

Each step in the clinic stairwell echoed up the concrete, and the stairwell was reverberant.

The neighborhood council's two speakers were discordant, their tones unpleasantly off pitch.

Notes from the small firm's chimes were harmonious and blended into one pleasant sound.

Overlapping voices made a confused noise, and the hearing room became clamorous.

The law library announcement came through raspy, hoarse and rough in the speaker.

The clinic's recorded greeting was lilting, the tune gently rising and then falling.

A deep loud voice filled the neighborhood council hall, and the microphone was booming.

On the small firm's old phone, the words sounded nasal, as if pinched through the nose.

The hearing room's broken speaker was guttural, forcing the words out in a harsh throaty growl.

The law library's reading chime was mellifluous, smooth and sweet from the first note to the last.

The clinic's door chime was staccato, a run of short notes separated by little gaps.

A loud clear ring from the neighborhood council's bell was clarion and carried down the street.

The small firm's announcement tone was brassy, a harsh blast like struck metal.

A tap on the hearing room bench sounded hollow, a thin empty tone rather than a solid thud.

On the law library carpet, footsteps sounded velvety, soft and smooth, with no scrape.

Each word of the clinic's overhead message was clipped, cut short before the next began.

Each call to order came with a percussive blow of the gavel, a sharp strike in the neighborhood council hall.

The small firm's recorded instructions were fluid, one sentence flowing smoothly into the next.

Each time the hearing room's old chair moved, it was creaky and let out a squeak.

Beyond the same table, the law library whisper was inaudible, too quiet to catch.

A harsh loud beep from the clinic's pager was blaring down the hallway.

From the back row, the neighborhood council's side conversation was audible and clear enough to follow.

Under the talk, the small firm's copy machine was rhythmic and kept a steady beat.

The hearing room fan was monotonous, holding one flat tone that never shifted.

By the window, the law library's wind chime was euphonious, and the tones were pleasant to hear.

Each swing of the clinic door brought an abrasive scrape, rough and grating from the hinge.

Microphone feedback in the neighborhood council hall was screechy, a high scraping tone.

Through the small firm's old speaker, the announcement was husky, the words rough and breathy.

Under the hand, the hearing room's metal rail was clammy, cool and damp.

Shoes slipped on the law library's waxed floor because the surface was slick.

Sand in the clinic's entry mat felt gritty and rough under the shoes.

To the touch, the neighborhood council's chair cushions were downy, soft and fluffy.

The small firm's old chair arms were leathery, tough and creased in the way worn leather is.