Some articles on rendered:
... rivers, lakes, islands and so forth, and completely re-rendered mountain ranges (to be more geographically accurate.) The various ‘large sea areas’ that represent the Atlantic Ocean were also re ... Youst, to whom Harvey credits the idea for the re-rendered mountain ranges ...
... Nanaindhana Paniyale by K V Mahadevan rendered by P Susheela Ninnukkori Varnam by Ilayaraaja rendered by K S Chithra Ayyan Malai Engal Malai by Manachanallur Giridharan rendered by P ...
... Rustic Temple (woodland), commenced between 1800 and 1820, with six rendered columns in a hexagonal plan, stone seats, and a rubble stone dome ... The temple is flanked by rendered walls with circular terminating piers ... It has corner towers and turrets, rendered walls with castellations, and openings with pointed arches and gun loops ...
... Sivan Srinivasa Enna Bittu by Purandaradasa Nadhamennum Kovilile by M S Viswanathan rendered by Vani Jayaram Pagalile Oru Nilavinai Kanden by Ilayaraaja rendered by S ... Mukshika Vahanane by Manachanallur Giridharan rendered by Harini ...
... with names beginning with Mac or Mc - all have been rendered here as (for example) Macdonald when it should possibly be rendered MacDonald ... Individual family tradition dictates how these names should be rendered, and this should be respected ...
Famous quotes containing the word rendered:
“One year
They sent a million here:
Here men were drunk like water, burnt like wood.
The fat of good
And evil, the breast’s star of hope
Were rendered into soap.”
—Randall Jarrell (1914–1965)
“I have often been reproached with the aridity of my genius; a deficiency of imagination has been imputed to me as a crime; and the Pyrrhonism of my opinions has at all times rendered me notorious. Indeed, a strong relish for physical philosophy has, I fear, tinctured my mind with a very common error of this age—I mean the habit of referring occurrences, even the least susceptible of such reference, to the principles of that science.”
—Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849)
“I waited alone, in the company of orchids, roses and violets who—like people waiting beside you, but to whom you are unknown—maintained a silence which their individuality of living things rendered more imposing and in their chilly manner received the heat from an incandescent coal fire, preciously placed behind a crystal glass, in a white marble tub where it dropped, from time to time, its dangerous rubies.”
—Marcel Proust (1871–1922)