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General Crossword Questions for “impromptu”

  • Spur of the moment
  • Without rehearsal
  • Off the cuff
  • On the spur of the moment
  • Improvised
  • Without planning, I'm on time -- you, too, by the sound of it!
  • Setter's quick to turn on the spur of the moment
  • One thousand concert exercises - Martinu's last composition
  • I'm ready with first-rate ad-lib
  • I'm put out over the concert being unrehearsed
  • Early arrival's announcement before start of untitled short musical piece
  • I'm going to a concert and put off, if unrehearsed
  • I am ready to turn on the 30 …
  • Leading man's prim pout could be unrehearsed
  • Spontaneous


  • For other uses, see Impromptu (disambiguation). An impromptu (loosely meaning "offhand") is a free-form musical composition with the character of an ex tempore improvisation as if prompted by the spirit of the moment, usually for a solo instrument, such as piano. — “Impromptu - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia”,
  • Impromptu speaking is a speech and debate consolation event that involves an eight minute speech, with up to three of these eight minutes available for use as preparation time (known as prep time, or simply prep) OHSSL Impromptu differs from the rules provided above in the fact. — “Impromptu speaking - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia”,
  • Impromptu is a Mac OS X programming environment for composers, sound artists, VJs and Impromptu is a Scheme language environment, a member of the Lisp. — “Impromptu (programming environment) - Wikipedia, the free”,


  • –One thing I never understood, he said to be original on the spur of the moment. Why they put tables upside down at night, I mean chairs upside down, on the tables in cafes. To which impromptu the neverfailing Bloom replied without a moment's hesitation, saying straight off:... — “Ulysses” by James Joyce
  • And by common consent we abandoned ourselves, three youthful, hungry mariners, to the enjoyment of this impromptu picnic. — “The Riddle of the Sands” by Erskine Childers
  • A march in the ranks hard-prest, and the road unknown, A route through a heavy wood with muffled steps in the darkness, Our army foil'd with loss severe, and the sullen remnant retreating, Till after midnight glimmer upon us the lights of a dim-lighted building, We come to an open space in the woods, and halt by the dim-lighted building, 'Tis a large old church at the crossing roads, now an impromptu hospital, Entering but for a minute I see a sight beyond all the pictures and poems ever made, Shadows of deepest, deepest black, just lit by moving candles and lamps, And by one great pitchy torch stationary with wild red flame and clouds of smoke, By these, crowds, groups of forms vaguely I see on the floor, some in the pews laid down, At my feet more distinctly a soldier, a mere lad, in danger of bleeding to death, (he is shot in the abdomen,) I stanch the blood temporarily, (the youngster's face is white as a lily,) Then before I depart I sweep my eyes o'er the scene fain to absorb it all, Faces, varieties, postures beyond description, most in obscurity, some of them dead, Surgeons operating, attendants holding lights, the smell of ether, odor of blood, The crowd, O the crowd of the bloody forms, the yard outside also fill'd, Some on the bare ground, some on planks or stretchers, some in the death-spasm sweating, An occasional scream or cry, the doctor's shouted orders or calls, The glisten of the little steel instruments catching the glint of the torches, These I resume as I chant, I see again the forms, I smell the odor, Then hear outside the orders given, Fall in, my men, fall in; But first I bend to the dying lad, his eyes open, a half-smile gives he me, Then the eyes close, calmly close, and I speed forth to the darkness, Resuming, marching, ever in darkness marching, on in the ranks, The unknown road still marching. — “Leaves of grass” by Walt Whitman
  • "Sir, I was too plain; I beg your pardon. I ought to have replied that it was not easy to give an impromptu answer to a question about appearances; that tastes mostly differ; and that beauty is of little consequence, or something of that sort." — “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Bronte
  • They walked on the gravel across a green court, where the snow still lay in islets on the grass, and in masses on the boughs of the great cedar and the crenelated coping of the stone walls, and then into a larger court, where there was another cedar, to find the beautiful choir long ago turned into stables, in the first instance perhaps after an impromptu fashion by troopers, who had a pious satisfaction in insulting the priests of Baal and the images of Ashtoreth, the queen of heaven. — “Daniel Deronda” by George Eliot
  • So he sweated and fired up and watched the glass fearfully (with an impromptu charm, made of rags, tied to his arm, and a piece of polished bone, as big as a watch, stuck flatways through his lower lip), while the wooded banks slipped past us slowly, the short noise was left behind, the interminable miles of silence–and we crept on, towards Kurtz. — “Heart of Darkness” by Joseph Conrad


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