Word: awe
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...social snobs, Runyon (who spent $50 on his own shoes) could pause to comment on the fancy shoes being worn by the Marquess of Queensberry; for hero-worshipers he had the right tone of awe ("Now here comes J. Pierpont Morgan himself . . . [and] you see the lightning behind the brows, and sense the thunder in the voice"). To the honest, indignant poor, Runyon gave descriptions of Capone's ill-gotten silken underwear...
Unawed. A sour man with a lurid private vocabulary, Charley never seemed to work. He often needed a shave, spent much time in the Press Club playing chess and dominoes with his newspaper cronies. He held no man in awe. Once Franklin Roosevelt greeted reporters with the remark that there was no news "except that Charley Michelson needs a haircut." Snapped Michelson: "Somebody's got to economize around here." Once he told Jim Farley: "Jim, you're the most honest man alive. You wouldn't steal anything-except an election...
...DcMille films, the people are caricatures, the production lavish, and the crowd scenes awe-inspiring. Gary Cooper is the strong silent moral colonial, who raises not a single eyebrow when alone in the woods with Paulette Goddard. She is intensely feminine, idealistic, and a perfect complement for Cooper. Opposing them are completely villainous Howard Da Silva, and evil inscrutable Indian chief Boris Karloff. DcMille has chosen an Indian war of 1761 as the setting of "Unconquered" and has duly costumed hundreds of extras as colonials. British redcoats, and painted aborigines. Fearless colonial Gary Cooper twice frees beautiful bondslave Paulette Goddard...
...lyrics to his partner's melodies (notable exception: The Last Time I Saw Paris, which Oscar first wrote as a poem, Jerome Kern later put to music). This system of creation puts the pinch on the lyricist; and it is in the pinches that Oscar has earned the awe of his fellow craftsmen, who refer to him as "The Master." Oscar now writes his words first and lets Rodgers weave a song...
...Enjoy the Papacy." On first sight, Florence does not seem to have changed much. Tourists buzz over Martinis at Leland's* and shiver in dutiful awe before the graves of Machiavelli and Galileo. Business is good and the city is well fed. But there are many different Florences. There is the Florence of only yesterday-of the anglicized local aristocracy which used to go fox hunting without foxes, mounted in pursuit of a butler who panted across the pine-plumed hillsides strewing a trail of paper scraps. That Florence is certainly gone...