Anamorphosis comes from Greek *ana‑* “up, back, again” and *morphē* “shape, form”. The term was first coined in the early 19th century to label a visual art technique where a distorted image becomes recognizable only from a particular angle or with a reflective device. It entered English via French *anamorphose* around the 1820s.
The English adjective “abrupt” comes from Latin abruptus, meaning “broken off” or “steep.” It combines the prefix ab‑ “away” with ruptus, the past participle of rumpere “to break.” The word entered Middle English in the 14th century, first describing cliffs and sudden actions.
Mistreat comes from the Latin prefix mis‑ meaning “wrongly” combined with the Old French verb traiter, itself from Latin tractare “to handle”. The compound entered English in the late 16th century, originally meaning “to handle or deal with badly”. Today it denotes cruelty or neglect toward a person or thing.
“Assassin” comes from the Arabic hashshashin — the plural of hashshash (hashish user) — a name applied to members of the Nizari Ismaili sect of medieval Islam, whose fighters were feared for targeted political killings. The name was recorded by Crusaders and travelers including Marco Polo, who associated the sect with the drug. The Arabic plural became the medieval Latin assassinus and entered European languages through Italian and French.
“Companion” comes from Late Latin companio — literally “one who shares bread” — from com- (together, with) + panis (bread). In a world where sharing a meal was a bond of loyalty and trust, the word for a trusted fellow was built from the act of breaking bread together. The same “panis” root gives us company, accompany, pantry, and the French surname “Dupain” (of the bread).
“Hazard” comes from the Arabic az-zahr (the dice — literally “the flower,” from the markings on dice). The word entered Spanish as azar (chance, accident) and then Old French as hasard — a dice game that Crusaders learned in the Middle East and brought back to Europe. The dice game became a general term for chance, and chance became a term for risk.
“Tragedy” comes from ancient Greek tragodia — a compound of tragos (goat) and ode (song) — literally “goat song.” Why a goat? Several theories exist: a goat was the prize in early dramatic competitions; actors wore goat-skin costumes; the chorus performed at a ceremony involving a goat sacrifice. The precise reason is debated, but the word is one of the most richly mysterious etymologies in the arts.
“Dunce” comes from the name of John Duns Scotus (c. 1265–1308), one of the most brilliant philosophers of the Middle Ages. Renaissance humanists mocked his followers — the “Dunses” or “Dunsmen” — as obstinate pedants clinging to an outdated system. The name of a philosopher celebrated for intellectual subtlety became, through this reversal of reputation, a word for a stupid person.
“Panic” comes from Greek Panikos (of Pan), named for Pan — the Greek god of the wilderness, flocks, and rustic music. Pan was believed to cause sudden, irrational terror in travellers who disturbed him in lonely places, particularly at noon when he was thought to sleep. The adjective panikos (of Pan) became the noun describing the sudden, uncontrollable fear he caused.
“Candidate” comes from Latin candidatus, meaning “clothed in white.” In ancient Rome, those seeking public office wore a toga candida — a toga whitened with chalk — to signal their openness and purity to voters. The gleaming white garment was a visual appeal for trust. The same Latin root gives us “candid” (frank, white = pure), “candor,” “candle,” and “incandescent.”