Word: coats
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Hannah's characters were always at the very end of a very frayed rope. But still, they were refusing to go down with any sort of literary decorum. They wanted to tug on your coat for a minute. They wanted to explain things, to explain how it was to be so much in love that it was "driving you into a sorry person." They were yahoos and warriors, gigglers and killers, they were pilots and brain-damaged tennis pros. If they were funny--and they usually were--they were also noble as the last minutes of desperation dragged...
...broke into Persian: "Believe me, it is in your interest for me not to come back." I suddenly remembered the snub-nosed Smith & Wesson that I had strapped on my back and a grenade I carried in my coat pocket. I was determined not to be captured alive. The immigration official would be my first target. I looked squarely at him and said: "I like this side better. I am sick and tired of what is happening in Iran, and of so-called officials who believe they have supreme power...
Lights, camera, action. On a video tape made at a house in Georgetown, Florida Congressman Richard Kelly, 56, tells an FBI agent posing as the representative of two fictitious Arab sheiks that he will help them immigrate to the U.S. Then, just before stuffing $25,000 into his coat pockets, he says: "If I told you how poor I am, you'd cry. I mean, the tears would roll down your eyes." In a Washington, D.C., courtroom last week, the tears were streaming from his wife Judy's eyes as Kelly, who was voted out of office last...
...imported two hairdressers, one from New York and one from Los Angeles, and took one of them along during a helicopter ride to an event so she could arrive freshly combed. The old Republican cloth coat that was good enough for Pat Nixon seemed destined for extinction...
...whereabouts and husband unknown. She is a gentle, oddly weatherless woman who poses no threat in the way of harshness or undue discipline. The girls like her, and worry: "Lucille and I still doubted that Sylvie would stay. She resembled our mother, and besides that, she seldom removed her coat, and every story she told had to do with a train or a bus station." The three settle into a land of amiable anarchy. They eat what and when they please: "Sylvie liked cold food, sardines aswim in oil, little fruit pies in paper envelopes." Leaves and debris gather unswept...