Word: braved
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...absolute monarch, Marshal Lyautey is par excellence a beneficent despot. His word is law. Yet, he always takes care to treat the Sultan's subjects with great tact. He has infinite patience, but, driven to act, he moves with merciless rapidity. The Arabs, who almost always admire a brave and wise man, admire Marshal Lyautey; for he never fails to punish the culpable, no matter how difficult it may be, and he never fails to pay the utmost respect to native traditions and beliefs. In that he is both brave and wise. All this does Abd-el-Krim know...
None but the brave deserves the tribute of Art. In Davenport, England, was unveiled a granite pylon, upon it, vitalized in bronze, Courage, supported by Patriotism, scorning Fear, Despair and Death. Below was an inscription dedicating this art a memorial to Explorer Scott and his companions who perished, after reaching the South Pole...
...Brave days are still remembered in that house. Along its corridors goes Cosima Wagner, his widow-a grim, gaunt woman with the eyes of a sick eagle and the mouth of a field marshal; up and down she parades, while her petticoat rustles. The whisper of memories, ludicrous, pathetic, stirs to the swish of the old woman's skirt along the empty hall. ... A shaggy little man contorted over the piano, begging his wife to walk up and down the room because he "so loves the rustle of silk. ..." A swollen little man, throned among his friends, shouting...
...These figures cannot be explained away on the ground that Americans were not brave, for we are a courageous people. The reason is to be found in the fact that in both wars, as in all our wars, America has never been prepared...
Writers of human interest articles for the musical press, last week, had an assignment that warmed their cockles like Chianti. Steinway hall was being abandoned. After 59 years of brave nights, this place, where Charles Dickens, in a shaky voice, read from his notes; where Fritz Kreisler, a shaggy boy of 13, made his Manhattan debut; where sang Christine Nilsson, the Swedish Nightingale; this place of tarnished gilt and outworn elegance, smelling of twilight, was to be left to the bludgeonings of the real-estate auctioneer. The inextinguishable appeal of extinguished gallantry wrung the hearts of the human interest writers...