expurgate

Before the library would show the play to the school, the teachers had to expurgate the script. They wanted to make sure there was nothing morally harmful or offensive that could upset parents or students, so they took out a few scenes and cleaned up the language.

My editor demanded I expurgate my book before he would publish it. He wanted every curse word and violent scene removed, saying they were too offensive for a wide audience. I felt sick, like he was asking me to tear out the story's honest, angry heart.

The school board voted to expurgate several chapters from the history textbook, removing passages they deemed too controversial for students. Teachers protested, arguing that sanitizing uncomfortable truths would leave kids unprepared for reality. Parents remained divided on whether protection or honesty mattered more.

When Tim’s dog wrote a wild story full of mud pies and bare bums, Tim’s mom had to expurgate it before showing it to Grandma. She removed everything morally harmful and even erased the part about the cat wearing Dad’s underwear on its head.

The publisher insisted we expurgate the wild rock star’s biography before it was printed. All the crazy party stories were cut. Instead, the book now details his quiet passion for collecting stamps and his award-winning petunia garden. It’s much less exciting, but more wholesome.

The author had to expurgate several paragraphs from the manuscript before sending it off to the publisher. This process of editing out the offensive language made the book more suitable for a wider audience.

After the writer's controversial novel was published, the publisher deemed it necessary to expurgate several passages that contained potentially offensive language and graphic descriptions. The revised edition, released a month later, featured these sections either heavily edited or removed altogether.

The old house on the hill was said to be expurgated of all its dark secrets long ago. But as I stepped inside, the musty air filled my lungs with a sense of dread. Shadows danced along the walls, whispering of the unspeakable horrors that had taken place within these walls. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet, as if trying to expunge the memories of the past. But no amount of cleansing could rid this place of the evil that lingered here. I could feel it, seeping into my very bones, as I realized that some things can never truly be expurgated.

The old tome lay open, its pages stained with blood and tears. The text, once written in elegant script, had been crudely expurgated, whole paragraphs blacked out as if by a rabid censor. The remaining words hinted at horrors unseen, tales of depravity and madness that had driven the reader to desperate acts.

In the kingdom of Auroria, the ancient spellbook was said to hold immense power. But before it could be used for good, it needed to be expurgated of its dark curses and twisted incantations. The young wizard apprentice, Lyra, took on the daunting task, carefully studying each page and purging the malevolent words with a wave of her wand. As the last of the vile magic was expunged from the book, a warm light filled the room, signaling that it was now safe for use by those who sought to bring light and goodness back to the land.

Before the school play could be performed for students, the script was carefully reviewed to expurgate any language or scenes that might be seen as offensive or morally harmful. The director wanted to make sure it was appropriate for everyone to watch without causing concern.

The studio executives insisted the director expurgate his film, removing the graphic violence they felt was too offensive for a wide audience. He refused, arguing that sanitizing the story's brutal reality would betray the very message he was trying to send about the consequences of war.

The school board voted to expurgate the history textbook, removing references to controversial events they deemed inappropriate for students. Parents protested, arguing that erasing uncomfortable truths would leave their children ignorant of reality. The debate grew heated as both sides defended their vision of proper education.

Before the school's talent show, Principal Hughes had to expurgate Timmy’s stand-up comedy routine, which included jokes about cafeteria mystery meat and Mrs. Jenkins’s neon-green hair. The principal feared that without a thorough cleansing of these morally harmful and offensive bits, riotous laughter—or lawsuits—might ensue.

The publisher insisted they must expurgate the pirate captain’s memoir, removing all swashbuckling curses and scandalous tales of plunder. The resulting book, “A Pirate’s Guide to Proper Napkin Etiquette,” was a colossal failure, much to the captain’s rum-soaked delight.

The editor had no choice but to expurgate the manuscript, removing every passage that could be construed as morally hazardous or potentially offensive. The author watched in frustration as sections she considered integral were eliminated, sacrificing authenticity for the sake of publication.

The imperious editor demanded the novelist expurgate her manuscript’s most trenchant chapters. She refused to capitulate, arguing that removing the purportedly offensive material would eviscerate the story’s core message and leave a hollow, dishonest narrative for readers.

The school board voted to expurgate the classic novel, removing passages they deemed inappropriate for teenagers. Parents protested outside, arguing that sanitizing literature would deprive students of confronting difficult historical realities. The controversy highlighted the perennial tension between protecting young minds and preserving artistic integrity, leaving educators to navigate the fraught intersection of pedagogy and censorship.

Before the school's annual talent show, Mrs. Penelope insisted the budding comedians expurgate their scripts, purging every risqué pun and questionable reference. To the teenagers’ consternation, she wielded her red pen like a moral Excalibur, ensuring parents wouldn’t require smelling salts mid-performance. Even the hamsters in the science lab sighed in relief.

My cat’s ghostwriter insisted we expurgate the memoir's more bellicose passages. He claimed the public could not handle the unvarnished truth of Fluffy's pugilistic encounters with the mailman, a truly scurrilous and mendacious account of what he called "canine perfidy."