Word: dead
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...running off the stencils of the Album's mailing list, general milking of graduating classes for every cent of the wasteful costs of Class Day exercises, leave rancid tastes that are bound to linger through the years. And it is still expected that, through an almost dead class loyalty, the alumni will still come across with cheery alacrity...
That night-July 4- was no night for Sunday seamen. The schooner Morning Star radioed to shore: "Heavy swells with cross-chop." Radiomen on other boats were more explicit: all hands were sick and wished they were dead. The yawl Emerald's crew let their stomachs guide them-back to port. Patolita lost her mainsail. One boat had hopefully taken along a dry-land chef. Near Catalina Island he was feeling poorly; he put to sea in a life preserver, was picked up and taken ashore in a guide boat...
Patolita v. Garbage. The gale blew itself out, but the near-dead calm that followed was almost as bad. The luckless Patolita radioed that she was having a race with her own floating garbage. Dolphin II found a breezier area...
Boston of the 1820s had no doubts that Washington Allston was a great painter-the greatest that the U.S. had yet produced. His English friend Samuel Coleridge wrote: "To you alone of all contemporary Artists does it seem to have been given, to know what Nature is-not the dead shapes, the outward Letter-but the Life of Nature itself." His friends and admirers were transatlantic giants of the day: Wordsworth, Southey, Bryant, Longfellow, Washington Irving, Oliver Wendell Holmes...
...story which Miss Hopper derived "by indirection" from her terrifying conversation with Miss Crawford was, as it turned out, dead wrong. But that was immaterial. For headlong Miss Hopper and pudgy Miss Parsons are two of the mightiest publicity powers on earth, and even their whispers can reduce the $250,000-a-year padishahs of pictures to masses of quivering jelly. For a few words from Hedda, set down with the same swooping abandon with which she selects the hats that have become her trademark, or one of Lolly Parsons' little shark-toothed prose smiles, can make or break...