Word: chins
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...been Harry Miner, a French Canadian whose profession is to smuggle babies across the U.S. border for adoption (at a price) in the U.S. But Miner had jumped the gun on the hearings, with a North American Newspaper Alliance description of his activities. After this happened, Kefauver received a chin-up note from one of his staffers: "Estes, at first blush this sounds bad, but it really is not. It will steal a little thunder, but at the same time it will really 'boom' our hearings...
...concerned with the mysteries of religion and the unconscious as with the certainties of science. He might even become telepathic-there's no telling what he might do. Although he is clearly the product of a feminine imagination-in fact, he has everything but a dimple in the chin-this New Man would be an eminently desirable citizen...
Into this storybook East comes plucky Susan Hayward, thrusting her determined chin at consular aides, British policemen and inscrutable Chinese who do not seem sufficiently eager to drop everything and help search for her husband (Gene Barry) behind the Bamboo Curtain. As someone defensively points out, her husband-a scoop-minded magazine photographer-knew he was taking a considerable chance when he crossed the Red border without a visa and loaded down with cameras...
...lucklessly brings down a party of Czechs and Poles fleeing the Nazis in a German plane. After that, she is seized by a plausible, if not entirely convincing, urge for expiation. Despite its sad undertones, The Breaking Wave is a novel in which the characters chin up to life more often than they gloom up over the accidents of fate. A skilled storyteller, Shute makes his combat scenes exciting and his love-in-bloom scenes tender, peppers both with Hitchcocky suspense. In his 18th novel, Nevil Shute, onetime Royal Navy lieutenant-commander, proves again that...
...cloud of dust rises high in the air and results in heavy fallout many feet from the point of origin.) After a long hard look in the mirror, it seemed obvious at first that I had it. What else could account for the receding hairline, the dewlap under the chin, and all those creases in the old epidermis? Yes, that was it, the secret decay, but still was it not a sort of hallmark of noble craft? . . . How about printing a picture of Louis...