Word: confesser
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Unlike Hughes, I must confess to a vulgar taste. When I visit the National Gallery I don't seek modern American artists like Jackson Pollock, or modern European artists either. I find myself turning to the exhibits of Dutch and Flemish painters. Rembrandt could afford to be representational, but then he lived 300 years...
...every Commencement, the President of Harvard University welcomes new graduates of the College "to the company of educated men and women." Having witnessed this ceremony for many years, I must confess to an increasing sense of unease with the phrase. A bachelor's degree may signify little more than the satisfactory completion of a fixed number of undergraduate courses. It is a matter of simple observation that not all college graduates are educated persons, nor are all educated persons necessarily college graduates. Clearly we mean to imply that our students have achieved a certain level of intellectual development...
This ambitious definition may appear impractical. Most of us, as members of the Harvard faculty and as professional scholars, would have to confess our own difficulty in measuring up to such a standard. But that is a shortsighted view. First, to have a stated ideal is valuable in itself. Second, the rather general phrases that I have used to translate into standard subjects: physics, biology, mathematics, history, the various social sciences and the humanities. Lastly, I am not suggesting that each of these subjects should be mastered by every educated person. Stress should be put on the concepts of "critical...
...this age of universal gourmandise, hardly a celebrity in the U.S. will not confess to being a closet chef. To put unsung Escoffiers in the limelight-and raise some money-the March of Dimes' New York chapter held a gourmet gala at the Waldorf-Astoria last week. Over hot stoves and chopping boards that ringed the ballroom, 26 contestants from the beautiful, the clever and the famed doggedly demonstrated their epicurean eptitude...
...until the point where even Cotton Mather would be urging them on that Barrault and Lanoux bed down. We are then treated to the much touted "healthy sensuality." I confess to being moved by much of this. There is a child-like and playful tenor to the sexuality here that is refreshing and just as real as the pathologies so often paraded before us. Rarely has lovemaking on the screen been so suffused with intimacy. Yet there wasn't one moment anyone could really call erotic. Lanoux and Barrault seemed at times almost de sexed, one with his roly-poly...