1758, Latinization of French polynésie, coined 1756 by French writer Charles de Brosses (1709-1777) in "Histoire des navigations aux terres australes, contenant ce que l'on sait des moeurs et des productions des contrées découvertes jusqu'à ce jour" (the word was first used in English in a review of it), coined from Greek polys "many" (from PIE root *pele- (1) "to fill") + nēsos "island" (see Chersonese). Related: Polynesian.
early 13c., whennes, with adverbial genitive -s, from Old English hwanone, related to hwænne (see when). Spelling with -ce (1520s) reflects the voiceless pronunciation.
c. 1200, from Old English þriga, þriwa "thrice" (from þrie "three;" see three) + adverbial genitive -es, changed c. 1600 to -ce to reflect voiceless pronunciation.
1540s, "having a conscience;" 1580s, of actions, "consonant with right or duty;" 1640s, of persons, "governed by conscience." It and conscioned "appear to be popular formations from conscion, taken as a singular of conscien-ce" by misapprehension of the "s" sound as a plural inflection [OED]. See conscience. Related: Conscionably. Obsolete from early 18c. but fossilized in its negative, unconscionable.
late 13c., auys "opinion," from Old French avis "opinion, view, judgment, idea" (13c.), from phrase ço m'est à vis "it seems to me," or from Vulgar Latin *mi est visum "in my view," ultimately from Latin visum, neuter past participle of videre "to see" (from PIE root *weid- "to see"). Meaning "opinion offered as worthy to be followed, counsel" is from late 14c.
The unetymological -d- (on model of Latin words in ad-) was inserted occasionally in French by scribes 14c.-16c. and was made regular in English 15c. by Caxton. Substitution of -c- for -s- is 18c., to preserve the breath sound and to distinguish from advise. Early Modern English tended to alternate -ce and -se endings in otherwise confusable noun-verb pairs, using -se for the verb and -ce for the noun: devise/device, peace/appease, practice/practise, license/licence, prophecy/prophesy.
kind of lively round-dance which originated in Bohemia, 1844, from French polka, German Polka, probably from Czech polka, the dance, literally "Polish woman" (Polish Polka), fem. of Polak "a Pole" (see Pole). The word might also be an alteration of Czech pulka "half," for the half-steps of Bohemian peasant dances. Or it could be a merger of the two. The dance was in vogue first in Prague, 1835; it reached London by the spring of 1842.
Vous n'en êtes encore qu'au galop, vieil arriéré, et nous en sommes à la polka! Oui, c'est la polka que nous avons dansée à ce fameux bal Valentino. Vous demandez ce que c'est que la polka, homme de l année dernière! La contredanse a vécu; le galop, rococo; la valse à deux temps, dans le troisième dessous; il n'y a plus que la polka, la sublime, l'enivrante polka, dont les salons raffolent, que les femmes de la haute, les banquiéres les plus cossues et les comtesses les plus choenosophoses étudient jour et nuit. ["La France Dramatique," Paris, 1841]
As a verb by 1846 (polk also was tried).
"two times, on two occasions, in two instances," late Old English twies, from Old English twiga, twigea "two times," from Proto-Germanic *twiyes (source also of Old Frisian twia, Old Saxon tuuio), from PIE *dwis-, adverbial form of root *dwo- "two." Spelling with -ce reflects the voiceless pronunciation.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
["King John," III.iv.]
Think twice, then speak was an "old Prouerbe" by 1623. At twice, though less common than at once, means "at two distinct times; by two distinct operations."
umbelliferous European plant long cultivated as food, 1660s, sellery, from French céleri (17c., originally sceleri d'Italie), said by French sources to be from Italian (Lombard dialect) seleri (singular selero), from Late Latin selinon, from Greek selinon "parsley" (in Medieval Greek "celery"), a word of uncertain origin. The c- spelling, attested by 1719 in English, is from French. Middle English words for "wild celery" were acheand selinum.
[O]ne day, in a weak and hungry moment, my roommate and I succumbed to a bit of larceny. A greengrocer's truck had parked down the street and was left unattended. We grabbed the first crate we could off the back. It turned out to be celery. For two days we ate nothing but celery and used up more calories chewing than we realized in energy. "Damn it," I said to my roommate, "What're we going to do? We can't starve." "That's funny," he replied. "I thought we could." [Chuck Jones, "Chuck Amuck," 1989]