deform

I that am curtaild of this faire proportion / Cheated of feature by diſſembling nature, / Deformd, vnfinisht, ſent before my time / Into this breathing vvorld ſcarce halfe made vp, / And that ſo lamely and vnfaſhionable, / That dogs barke at me as I halt by them: […]

a face deformed by bitterness

a marriage deformed by jealousy

If I answer that metal’s hard and shiny and cold to the touch and deforms without breaking under blows from a harder material, [David] Hume says those are all sights and sounds and touch. There’s no substance. Tell me what metal is apart from these sensations. Then, of course, I’m stuck.