Word: chills
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...members of a growing community of Soviet immigrants, the vast majority of them Jews, who have settled in the Hub area over the past six or seven years. They are part of an on-again-off-again diaspora of Soviet Jews, whose numbers rise and fall with each chill and thaw in Soviet-American relations...
...doesn't wind up perfectly. Only art you can control. Art and masturbation-two areas in which I'm an absolute expert." Some moviegoers will see the film as life made into art, the rarefied atmosphere of Manhattan high life bottled, aged and served with a chill. Others will wonder if the movie isn't an elaborate mechanism of self-abuse, a Rube Goldberg dildo, a film about a dead end that is a dead end for this prolific, personal film maker. Stardust Memories has much to please the eye and ear. Cinematographer Gordon Willis and Production...
Today a kind of millennial chill has settled upon whole sectors of the American psyche that once could not wait to get up in the morning. Progress has collided with the philosophy of limits. Of all cultural adjustments, the notion of an end to progress seems the most difficult for Americans to accept. It is foolish that a general cultural drift makes them feel that they must...
...past 15 years have pounded a sense of urgent uniqueness into Americans. In fact, anyone who buys from OPEC and fails to feel some chill of reckoning down the line is a bon vivant worth spending an evening with. But Americans need to regain a longer perspective. The period from the end of World War II to the mid-'60s was not only historically abnormal; it was unprecedented and probably unrepeatable. The nation's gross national product went from $212.3 billion in 1945 to $688.1 billion in 1965. That single 20-year period has skewed the American sense...
...London fog, with steam rising among the sheared trees and debris and only the sound of the train on the track." Susan Hobart, a reporter for Portland's Oregonian, added: "The living are not welcome here. The ground rejects you, trying to suck you into foot-deep mud. Chill winds knife into your spine. Ash floats in the air, killing your sense of smell. Every instinct, every emotion warns you to go away. I felt like we were trespassing, like we didn't have nature's permission to visit its ashen graves...