Word: detested
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...middle with the cold tines of a pitchfork, tossed him on the white snow beside the body of his brother near the grey ice of the Dnieper. George Zagorsky, 25, son of onetime Brigadier General Zagorsky of the Czar's Imperial Russian Army has good reason to detest "Reds." Last week George sweltered in Manhattan, parsed verbs, declined nouns and pronouns. He already speaks fluently French, Russian, German, Greek, Italian, Turkish- no English. He has 18 days in which to learn English before his passport expires. He will then be handed a U. S. Army enlistment examination...
...twelve years old, but I always have, and always will, detest any being (or fiend, as Subscriber Marlborough put the German, Schwarz) who would, for the sake of anything, make life miserable for any dumb beast or animal. When I read the article on "Horses" [TIME, May 31, GERMANY] where the German moving picture producer, Schwarz, sprung a trap under two horses to make them tumble down the cliff onto the rocks below for the sake of making moving pictures of their agony, I felt as one would if someone would suddenly tell you that a certain man had tortured...
...shot upon the royal estates in Savoy. One humble Fascist is known to have done a painting for him in "pure salad oil." Last week there appeared a portrait of Il Benito done in 352 pages in jet-black printers' ink. Mussolini prefaced it with the remark, "I detest those who take me as the subject of their writings...
...today, if the Spanish in the 18-year-old Prince of Asturias makes him a bullfighting enthusiast, his Anglo-Ger-man conscience revolts and he becomes head of the Cruelty to Animals Society. If the 16-year-old Beatriz and the 14-year-old Cristina adore the toreador, they detest the cruel slaughter of bulls. Thus, the great-grand-children of Queen...
...have ever hated all nations, professions and communities . . . but principally I hate and detest that animal called man." So wrote the angry Irishman, Jonathan Swift. So has come to think that onetime cable of conservatism, Painter Sir William Orpen. His painting was the exception: A white bear stands in the glare of a Paris prize ring. There is blood at his feet; he has just consummated upon a human bruiser, now unconscious, brutalities so magnificent that spectators of every sex, replete with ecstasy at the spectacle, slobber and clip, heedless of an ape that sits among them, scrutinizing with remote...