Word: bouquets
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...matter how sluggish they may appear, Pinter's people arrive on stage primed for combat, and words are their weapons. For a Tennessee Williams, language is a rhetorically scented bouquet of roses to be showered on an audience in fond profusion. To Pinter, language is sniper fire: laconic, staccato, precise, designed to cut down the people one hates. He uses two kinds of speech: words that are dead and words that can kill. The dead words are the burnt-toast banalities of daily life: "I've got your corn flakes ready. Here's your...
...time covered in the book's 710 pages stretches from 8:45 a.m. Nov. 20, when a vibrant, if slightly testy, John Kennedy presided over a White House breakfast for congressional leaders, to midnight Nov. 25, when Jackie prayed and placed a bouquet of lilies of the valley beside the eternal flame at the dead President's grave...
...usual, Hungarian plainclothesmen were waiting outside the U.S. legation in Budapest on the remote chance that the old man might emerge. There was no chance at all. Inside, Josef Cardinal Mindszenty thanked the legation staff for a bouquet of red and white carnations that celebrated his 75th birthday, stared briefly from his window at the Soviet war memorial in "Freedom Square" below, and continued the political exile that began during the uprising of 1956. The Hungarians have offered him amnesty, but Mindszenty refuses to leave his asylum, or his country, until the Communists clear him of the trumped-up charges...
...following morning, ten members of the family assembled at the site for a formal, unannounced ceremony. Jacqueline Kennedy arrived clutching a bouquet of lilies of the valley. Lyndon Johnson, invited by Bobby and Jacqueline Kennedy, shared his outsized umbrella with Bobby in the chill, driving rain. Once again, Cushing's unforgettable nasal, New England accent broke the stillness at Arlington Cemetery: "Be at peace, dear Jack, with your tiny infants by your side, until we all meet again above this hill and beyond the stars...
...straight fairy tale, as Beni Montresor tried (successfully) in his lavish scenery for the New York City Opera in October. Chagall strove to incorporate both approaches and achieved neither. He viewed the opera in terms of color, reiterating that the total effect of the scenery should be "like a bouquet of flowers." When the opera finally opened last week, Chagall's bouquet bloomed stunningly, but the opera itself was lost in the undergrowth...