Word: brink
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...come in. There may be a sequel to Harry, or it could become a TV series. But Art has reservations: "I fear that warm and wonderful character would become too diffused and little more than a cliche." For the first time in his career, he is on the brink of making big money and having new options. In his Beverly Hills hotel, his phone never stops ringing. He takes a call from Gleason. "What did you do last night?" "I went to see Chinatown," jokes Art. Then he smiles. His days of being anyone's second banana are over...
...their list of musts was a moratorium on all new federal spending programs through 1976. "We want him to shout that loud and clear, right now," declared a Senator. Nor would they tolerate the nationalization of any troubled industry like the railroads. "We are on the brink of socialism," said a participant. "We want a clear commitment that he will not compromise the free enterprise system." Despite their solemn admonitions phrased in blunt language, the Senators came away believing they had not got their message across to the noncommittal President. "We sensed the same old attitude," said one of them...
Jumped or fell Newspapers politely circumscribe the early morning leaps into New York traffic It makes a difference if we take ourselves by the hand and lead ourselves over the brink, or if, putting one foot in front of the other one day, we reach the edge of the building and drop...
Ruth and I are suspended in time, not the time of the vagabond, but a time without issue. When we learn to control our fall, we may once again take hands and lead each other over the brink, eyes wide open. But there will have been a succession of days, days without meaning, false spring days, that are overland with our nonexistent futures. And however controlled our flight, those days will be a part of our nonexistent past. We will never again let the vagabond pass into our lives, and, carefree, pass out again...
...fact he would probably urinate in his elitist tweeds to know that his new book is like The Waste Land. The comparison, however, is not between the final products but between the origins of the two works: both were written by men close to--if not over--the brink. However, while Eliot's masterpiece was what the poet called "rhythmical grumbling." Burgess's piece of trash car only be described as infantile whining...