Word: clung
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...themselves each morning what they had done to further it. Amidst acclamation, he never played the hero's role. Evenings, he and his wife Paula (whom he married in Brooklyn) sat at the kitchen table eating a supper of sour cream, cheese, bread and salad. He clung to the white, open-necked shirt that is the unofficial uniform of the Israeli pioneer. Once he turned up at a Mapai meeting after a Soviet embassy reception, still clad in striped pants and morning coat, explained: "Please forgive my working clothes...
Frederika did not mind at all. She loved being allowed to ride on Florence streetcars, leaping up to give her seat to the elderly while she herself clung to a strap. Generally hatless, informally dressed and never too neat ("I don't believe Frederi-ka's seams were ever straight," said one teacher), the German princess seemed in many ways as American as her schoolmates. They called her "Freddy" and even "Fried Egg," and often gathered in her room to help her wrestle with the groaning accordion she sought to master...
...took a long time. By 10 o'clock, neighbors clung to telephone poles and tree limbs, stood on ladders and clambered to rooftops to peer over a dense honeysuckle hedge into the yard. At noon, having dug out 3 ft. of dirt and a foot of quicklime, James stepped back with a sick sigh. A pair of undertakers, their pants legs rolled up, got down into the grave and lifted out a blue plastic bag. Inside was the fully clothed body of Bobby Greenlease. He had been shot once through the head, from behind...
Only the noisy Bevanites, few of whom work with their hands, still clung to the Marxist dogma that the state alone must own "the means of production." They were steamrollered at Margate by the trade-union mass that is the heart (and the bankroll) of British Socialism...
Soft Wadding. Jacques smiled and refused. For a moment father and son clung to each other, as if too moved to speak. Then the old professor began: "It was very important, very lovely. And I must say that the chief merit of this undertaking goes to my son Jacques. It was he who guided the Trieste." There had been no trouble at all; the Trieste had functioned perfectly. She had snuggled down on the sea bottom (where the pressure was about 500 lbs. per square inch) "as on a soft wadding." The result, said Piccard, "is what he had foreseen...