Word: bright
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...were in an urban jungle, snarling and clawing with uninhibited fury at the contemporary fabric of black-white and black-black relationships. If the characters of Playwright Charles Gordone are not quite solidly realized, their sentiments most emphatically are. Gordone is too honest an author to lie about a bright, brotherly tomorrow just over the horizon, but in thunder and in laughter he tells the racial truth of today...
...from well educated, very liberal families. from my own observations I would like to add that those whom I got to know might be characterized by having had their intellectual abilities developed very highly at much too early an age, but at the expense of their emotional development. Very bright as they often are, emotionally some of them remained fixated at the age of the temper tantrum...
Another oddity is his apparent optimism. Early this season when the lacrosse team was suffering from an identity crisis, Ince tried to look at the bright side. At a squad meeting before practice, Gary Leahey had just spoken rather unenthusiastically about the team's deficient attitude. Ince then got up and said he didn't think things were all that bad and that everyone shouldn't get down. He didn't say it with great eloquence, and Leahey's point of view certainly mad more sense, but hearing Ince speak as he did was somehow impressive. It was just good...
...feisty Observer has plenty of critics, mostly officials it has attacked. Republican Governor Don Samuelson, with whom Day disagrees on almost everything, claims that the paper tries to "get people emotionally disturbed rather than present facts." Sheriff Paul Bright, who has been assailed by the Observer for efforts to close such movies as I, a Woman and Candy, vainly sought a warrant to arrest Day when the paper published some four-letter words used by S.D.S. Founder Tom Hayden at the University of Idaho, even though the speech was also televised. The prosecuting attorney ruled that the one incident showed...
...Vladimir Nabokov, when the nervy choughs commence kissing outside the sixth floor of the Montreux Palace Hotel. Not that there has been much night for him. "I am the insomniac of universal literature," he cries. "My wet nurse complained. I was always up, smiling and looking around with my bright eyes. I am awakened by my own snore, which is a Nabokovian paradox. Helpful pills do exist, but I am afraid of them. My habitual hallucinations are quite monstrously sufficient, thank Hades. Looking at it objectively, I have never seen a more lucid, more lonely, better balanced mad mind than...