Word: belongs
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When confronted by the locked door of his fifth floor studio I originally felt that somehow Harvard's sculptor ought to belong to me; I ought to be able to watch as well as learn from him. But after tripping over and disarranging at least five of his works in process, and after being disturbed at the interview with Mirko by a stray artsy busybody, it's easy to see why Mirko doesn't hold open house. His jungle of massive wood beams from razed houses (works-to-be), metal shears, styrofoam, paints, glues, saws and over 100 sculptures...
...Some want to go beyond what the solemn assemblies of the church have authorized, envisaging not only reforms but upheavals, which they think they themselves can authorize and which they consider all the more clever the less they are faithful to tradition. Where is the consistency and dignity which belong to true Christians? Where is love for the church...
...requires the self-discipline of what he calls a spartan life. Though he spent eight years under a man who was wary of the powers of the office, he declared in a speech on the presidency-one of his best-on Sept. 19: "The days of a passive presidency belong to a simpler past. The next President must take an activist view of his office. He must articulate the nation's values, define its goals and marshal its will...
...TEXAS. Horn-rimmed glasses and a jaunty Stetson are the trademarks of Conservative Democrat Preston D. Smith, 56. The horn rims belong to the real estate entrepreneur and 18-year veteran of public office who had to work his way through high school at such jobs as picking cotton and pumping gas. The Stetsoned Smith is the campaigning frontiersman who flew to 249 of Texas' 254 counties to shake hands and exude confidence. Horn rims or hat, there was more than enough Smith to defeat Republican Paul W. Eggers...
...shoulder, tirelessly paraphrasing what O'Neill wrote in his most autobiographical play and his one masterpiece, Long Day's Journey Into Night: "I will always be a stranger who never feels at home, who does not really want and is not really wanted, who can never belong, who must always be a little in love with death." But even in a biography more notable for detail than for new perceptions, the accumulated O'Neill agonies still produce a power beyond themselves, just as they do in his plays...