Definitions for wrinkled
wrin·kled

Princeton's WordNet(1.00 / 1 vote)Rate this definition:

1. wrinkled, wrinkly(adj)

   marked by wrinkles

   "tired travelers in wrinkled clothes"

2. unironed, wrinkled(adj)

   (of linens or clothes) not ironed

   "a pile of unironed laundry"; "wore unironed jeans"

Wiktionary(0.00 / 0 votes)Rate this definition:

1. wrinkled(Adjective)

   Uneven, with many furrows and prominent points, often in reference to the skin or hide of animals.

   As the ocean receded from the beach it left the sand appearing wrinkled.

Webster Dictionary(0.00 / 0 votes)Rate this definition:

1. Wrinkled

   of Wrinkle

How to pronounce wrinkled?

1. 

   Alex

   US English

   

   Daniel

   British

   

   Karen

   Australian

   

   Veena

   Indian

How to say wrinkled in sign language?

Numerology

1. Chaldean Numerology

   The numerical value of wrinkled in Chaldean Numerology is: 1

2. Pythagorean Numerology

   The numerical value of wrinkled in Pythagorean Numerology is: 6

Examples of wrinkled in a Sentence

1. Nutritionist Ariane Resnik:

   Increase your water intake by 2 to 4 glasses a day and you will be better hydrated, your skin may look less wrinkled, and you’ll likely feel better, i’d avoid trying to become a human aquarium.

2. Deodatta V. Shenai-Khatkhate:

   I often think of Shelley's famous insightful sonnet "Ozymandias" that brilliantly depicts the inevitable fall of all foolishly arrogant leaders and their huge empires built in pretensions to their self-proclaimed greatness. Nature and Time always prevail and overtake ultimately, when nothing remains of those great empires or the arrogant leaders.....and only the lone and level sands stretch far away. Vanity, false pride and arrogance never win, in my view. Humility is the true key success. Here is that famous sonnet "Ozymandias" by Percy Shelley, written in January 1818, nearly 200 years ago. "I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.

3. Richard Paul Evans:

   I am not a believer in love at first sight. For love, in its truest form, is not the thing of starry-eyed or star-crossed lovers, it is far more organic, requiring nurturing and time to fully bloom, and, as such, seen best not in its callow youth but in its wrinkled maturity. Like all living things, love, too, struggles against hardship, and in the process sheds its fatuous skin to expose one composed of more than just a storm of emotion–one of loyalty and divine friendship. Agape. And though it may be temporarily blinded by adversity, it never gives in or up, holding tight to lofty ideals that transcend this earth and time–while its counterfeit simply concludes it was mistaken and quickly runs off to find the next real thing.” ― Richard Paul Evans

4. Bhartrihari:

   Man is an actor who plays various parts: First comes a boy, then out a lover starts; His garb is changed for, lo! a beggar?s rags; Then he?s a merchant with full money-bags; Anon, an aged sire, wrinkled and lean; At last Death drops the curtain on the scene.*

5. William Shakespeare:

   Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,-- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun.

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