Word: bambinos
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...conductor, he made fidelity to the composer his watchword. From the time he first mounted a podium as a "beardless bambino" of 19 (in 1886), no man ever swayed him from what he felt in his heart to be right, but in judging what was right, he relied not only on heart, but on his extraordinary taste and ear. His goal was perfection, and he sought it with the fervor of a knight seeking the Grail. In his own mind he never achieved it, but through the years, his music became ever cleaner and simpler. He was the ever-inquiring...
...take it, don't go to Italy at all; stop off only at museum pieces such as Belgium's Bruges-"a lovely stuffed bird." If, on the other hand, your stomach is strong enough to take the parfumerie with the campanile, the tinsel bambino with the David of Michelangelo, the abysmal filth with the supreme sunlight-then make your pilgrimage to the cities of Italy, remembering always the words of a loth Century Irish bard...
...birthday they were just rehearsing for Toscanini's opera broadcast of the season-the riproaring, tearfully tender music of Verdi's Aida. The music meant something special to the maestro. He had conducted it in his Rio de Janeiro debut almost 63 years ago as a beardless bambino, and in his U.S. debut at Manhattan...
Back from a desperate search for a human-interest story, a Minor sport-writer wrote: "Ed Barrow, the Babe's rough, tough baseball father, pulled up the shade on the years to let the sunshine of the Bambino's rollicking history pour through the room of his tree-shrouded Rye home as he abstractedly nodded: 'Babe Ruth was just a human citizen-a human American citizen.'" Westbrook Pegler, putting his worst (kickless) foot forward, told how Ruth, "a burly oaf [who] could suck half a pound of tobacco and spit through his ears," had autographed...
Sportwriters knocked themselves out thinking up new names and superlatives for him: The Sultan of Swat, the Bambino, The Colossus of Clout. He didn't need all that; he was color itself-a fellow built on heroic, swaggering lines, an enormous head on a barrel of a body...