Word: cloaks
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...legislative bodies learn, sooner or later, so this Democratic Convention has learned that business has to be done in committee, if one wants secrecy and dispatch, and then merely be ratified afterward on the floor . . . Once more pure democracy, or the form of pure democracy, which always is the cloak for some sort of oligarchy, had been replaced by representative government where the oligarchy could frankly function in the open with the body of electors reserving the right to veto its decision...
...expense of fairness. Like thieving, yellow journalism exists in many varieties. There is the simple ruffianly attack. There is the subtler, less violent and less obvious form of getting away with it. The latter form of yellow journalism is usually practiced by those who go about in a cloak of respectability, wrap themselves up in a scarf of fairness and wear the hat of honest citizenry. Freud coupled the instinct of prudery with the instinct of license. Yellow journalism caters to both groups. The crude form attacks the character of a man without giving his defense, and serves as pimp...
...Both Kings were dressed in military uniforms and were seated in the first carriage. Queen Mary was, as usual, dressed severely, wore a silver-tissue brocade coat and the inevitable perching toque, and, as usual, she looked every inch a Queen. Queen Marie wore a wine-red fur-trimmed cloak and a large hat well down upon her head...
Nellie, the Beautiful Cloak Model. The producers have supplied in Claire Windsor a girl whose looks fit the title róle of Owen Davis's stage thriller of 15 years ago. In other ways they have built up the veracity of the play, so that the old melodrama, with its numerous, complicated and quite mechanical thrills, becomes good fun. In the final shot the producers make it plain that this is playacting, after...
...seeing the remarkable mess upon which Shaw was browsing, he asked in an alarmed and Scottish whisper: "Oh tell me, Shaw. Ha' ye eaten that, or are ye going to?"; and G. K. Chesterton, sitting at a table in Paddington Station "in a black sombrero and an enormous cloak, a cup of tea in one hand and a glass of port wine in the other, and looking, even in those utterly English surroundings, like a Dutch burgomaster just released from Rembrandt's studio after a long sitting...