Word: dearingly
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...would like some day to explore them to find out why I have turned out as I have. That day is going to be a long time coming, for I am not about to explain my life in the primitive vocabulary of this ignorant writer and her Dear Friend. How can you reach people who are obliviously struggling underneath a welter of preconceived notions and prejudices, people whose mental neon flashes when you come near them, Black Experience...Inner City...Hypertension..Sickle Cell Anemia...all important subjects, and all, when treated in a simplistic, reductionist way are rendered into...
...signed up and entered the room where the meeting was held in a mood of excited expectation that the meeting with someone whose work you admire inspires. She arrived a half-hour late, coming from a dinner held in her honor and accompanied by a woman described as a dear friend whose wrist the elderly writer clasped throughout the evening, as if for strength. An adulatory hush came over the room as she began to speak in her rambling, stammering, repetitive way. After about twenty minutes of this, I broke in and asked what seems now a rather academic question...
Because my emotional apparatus is a little jammed, whenever acutely upset I begin to laugh hysterically; so I suppose I conformed very nicely to her sterotypical fancies about blacks. She talked on and on, every now and then mentioning blacks while casting a significant look in my direction. Her Dear Friend was no better, periodically contorting her facial muscles in expressions suggestive of profound empathy. I marveled at the speed with which, after speaking at such length in her flatulent way about the arrogated rights of the individual, she could forget her own preachings and attempt to make me into...
...women even without the exploitation of his intellect and reputation. In fact, Beauvoir wasn't as caustic as all that in her memoirs; one finds tenderness there as well. A legend that circulated at the time had Camus saying to a respectable woman of letters: 'We have, dear friend, spent a marvelous evening evoking high-minded subjects, but, you see, if a wench walked by right now I'd drop you and follow...
...even in a winter paradise these days, things are seldom what they seem. When Adam and Eve first stumbled out of the Garden, Adam supposedly turned to his partner and remarked, "My dear, we live in an age of transition." The same can be said of Dartmouth today. And of its carnival, which has figured in the romantic or rowdy reveries of Dartmouth men for decades. It all goes back to 1909. That was the year, at least, when an inventive sophomore named Fred Harris (class of 1911) first urged the formation of a ski-and-snowshoe club to organize...