How
[haʊ]
Definition
(adv.) In what manner or way; by what means or process.
(adv.) To what degree or extent, number or amount; in what proportion; by what measure or quality.
(adv.) For what reason; from what cause.
(adv.) In what state, condition, or plight.
(adv.) By what name, designation, or title.
(adv.) At what price; how dear.
Edited by Horace
Synonyms and Synonymous
ad. [1]. In what manner, in what way, by what mode, by what means.[2]. To what extent, to what degree.[3]. For what cause, for what reason.[4]. In what state, in what condition, in what plight.
Inputed by Cecile
Definition
adv. in what manner: to what extent: for what reason: by what means: from what cause: in what condition: (N.T.) sometimes=that.—The how and the why the manner and the cause.
n. (prov.) a low hill.
Checked by Conan
Examples
- As a walking companion, Emma had very early foreseen how useful she might find her. Jane Austen. Emma.
- How we shall conciliate this little creature, said Mrs. Bretton to me, I don't know: she tastes nothing, and by her looks, she has not slept. Charlotte Bronte. Villette.
- But how about the foresight and the moral retrogression? Arthur Conan Doyle. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
- May I ask how old he is, ma'am? Thomas Hardy. The Return of the Native.
- What a fine town but how the _buena gente_, the good people of that town, have suffered in this war. Hemingway, Ernest. For Whom The Bell Tolls.
- He knew how to blow any sort of bridge that you could name and he had blown them of all sizes and constructions. Hemingway, Ernest. For Whom The Bell Tolls.
- How she had to work and thrum at these duets and sonatas in the Street, before they appeared in public in the Square! William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity Fair.
- How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice.
- But pray, Colonel, how came you to conjure out that I should be in town today? Jane Austen. Sense and Sensibility.
- Be cautious then, young ladies; be wary how you engage. William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity Fair.
- And how were they? Charlotte Bronte. Jane Eyre.
- How can you wait in this dress in the middle of the streets? Harriette Wilson. The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson.
- He knows how vast the field is, and how many paths constantly beckon him. Rupert S. Holland. Historic Inventions.
- Your book-case, Marian--your dear-little-shabby-old-satin-wood book-case--how glad I am you brought it with you from Limmeridge! Wilkie Collins. The Woman in White.
- But how has she lived through all these years? Wilkie Collins. The Woman in White.
- He looked at her--oh, how fondly--as she came running towards him, her hands before her, ready to give them to him. William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity Fair.
- So, he sat down at the foot of his little iron bedstead, and began to wonder how much a year the warder made out of the dirty room. Charles Dickens. The Pickwick Papers.
- This victory gained, Rokesmith made haste to profit by it, for he saw how woefully time had been lost. Charles Dickens. Our Mutual Friend.
- Some time ago, before her father's death, when I thought it right to mention to her--but I'll tell you, if you will bear with me, how it was. Charles Dickens. David Copperfield.
- There she satand who would have guessed how many tears she had been lately shedding? Jane Austen. Emma.
- And you, last night, thinking about how you and your grandfather were so terrific and your father was a coward. Hemingway, Ernest. For Whom The Bell Tolls.
- That he may let me know how you behave, answered Frederick Lamb. Harriette Wilson. The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson.
- How long could I bear it? Charles Dickens. David Copperfield.
- But how if another claw in the shape of me is straining to thwart it? George Eliot. Middlemarch.
- How could my hair have been locked in the drawer? Arthur Conan Doyle. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
- There were lines upon his forehead, but Time seemed to have touched him gently, remembering how kind he was to others. Louisa May Alcott. Little Women.
- And how are you, my dear boy? Charles Dickens. Bleak House.
- I am quite grieved for him, and very much frightened, and so is Sir Thomas; and how glad I should be if you were here to comfort me. Jane Austen. Mansfield Park.
- How about the irreclaimable ones, though? Edith Wharton. The House of Mirth.
- I don't know how it is, said he, but I had hoped for so much from his return. Arthur Conan Doyle. The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.
Checked by Conan