Word: bents
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...dusted, the critics and the curious watched as Sir Malcolm Sargent stopped the London Philharmonic Orchestra for the 18th time to cry "No, no! ... Back to bar 175 again." Finally, looking at his watch, he muttered, "Only two minutes more. My God, I must have this again." Composer Schnabel, bent over his score, nodded his huge, bristly head with sympathy. Two years ago, the Minneapolis Symphony had taken 25 rehearsals before it dared to give Schnabel's treacherous piece its first U.S. hearing...
...Judge Goldsborough squashed and slightly bent the opening lines of Cicero's First Oration Against Catiline (roughly translated) : "How much longer, Mr. Catiline, do you think you're going to get away with it? If you think we'll take your rough japery forever, you're crazy. Just keep up that bodacious swaggering a little longer, and you're going to be told where to head...
...night he was sent to investigate a call for help in a bleak and ancient Brooklyn house. He arrived just as a woman ran out. Her half-crazed husband, with a pistol, had broken through a bedroom window, bent on killing her. The house was pitch-dark. O'Dwyer got a kerosene lamp, pushed it into the room, saw that his quarry had gotten into bed. He dived, yanked back the blankets, grabbed the man's gun hand. It was like "holding the leg of a steer." The man wrestled desperately to bring his weapon to bear...
Money, Money, Money. "I just don't believe in love any more," said Dorothy. Her voice had the gently feminine tone of a bent gong. "I'm looking for just one thing-money, money, money." She hadn't expected to attract so much attention, and she hoped it wouldn't embarrass her parents (with whom her children live). She favored a "decent type" for a husband, someone "not too old." And in a hurry. She had enough money to last about a week...
...third day's fighting, "that at the second Bull Run, at the Antietam, and at Fredericksburg . . . we had heard heavy cannonading; they were but holiday salutes compared with this . . . great oaks heave down their massy branches ... as if the lightning smote them ... [I saw] a man bent up, with his face to the ground in the attitude of a Pagan worshipped . . . [and] I went and said to him, 'Do not lie there like a toad. Why not go to your regiment and be a man?' He turned up his face with a stupid, terrified look . . . and then...