Word: confessed
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Gentlemen: I must confess serious doubts about the efficacy—or even the integrity—of the “classic” exam period editorial, “Beating the System,” you reprinted recently. I almost suspect this so-called “Donald Carswell ’50” of being rather one of Us—the Bad Guys—than one of you. If your readers have been following Mr. Carswell’s advice for the last 11 years, then your readers have been going down the tubes...
...University’s speech code, commented that, “If there is any star fixed in our constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein. Nor could the University proscribe speech simply because it was found to be offensive, even gravely so, by large numbers of people...
...last overheard in Tora Bora. Senior Bush aides admit privately that the month it took to build up forces for the invasion of Afghanistan gave bin Laden and his senior leaders plenty of time to carry out evacuation plans. The military is a lot less keen to confess that it blew its best opportunity to nab him in the December assault on Tora Bora. Washington committed too few American troops to the hunt, even some U.S. military officers say, while relying on iffy Afghan warlords to do the dirty work and indifferent Pakistani forces to cut off escape routes...
...Good as it was, however, the prospect today seems to me even more exciting,” he wrote in the early 1940s, “and I have to confess to a twinge of envy as I contemplate the ‘goodies’ that lie ahead for...the next generation...
...other is a reckless cross-cultural misadventure ($23). The grilled swordfish is crumbly and again drained of moisture, with a peripheral dollop of mysterious root vegetable looking sheepish and impertinent. It comes with crab-stuffed flautas (crispy rolled tortillas) whose flavor is completely dominated by the pastry. I must confess a personal aversion to Mexican food (oh the traumas of refried—and refried again—beans, mulchy salsas and guacamoles), and this only confirmed my prejudice...