Word: dreaming
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...meal at home in Chicago. "My bride Sheila," he says, "could not cook at first, but she could read, and we started with six cookbooks. After several weeks of rather strange food I came home one evening to a chicken soufflé as savory as a politician's dream." Harris learned later that the recipe his wife had followed called for a soufflé made from icebox leftovers. Having no leftovers in her kitchen, she had spent the entire day cooking up bits of leftovers to satisfy the recipe...
...British alliance. Cried Laborite S. N. Evans roundly: "Do not let us forget that EDC and the American bases and NATO and the hydrogen bomb are not the causes of international tension: they are the end product, the inevitable consequence of Stalin's postwar madman's dream of a new Communist Roman Empire . . . Without American military and industrial strength . . . the U.N. organization would be dead; there would be no Geneva negotiations and there would be little hope of peace anywhere in the world...
...lips of Isaiah; the triumphal palms were turning green in his hands. Every gesture seemed a principle. When he opened his arms, striking the air, it was as though an entire program were unfolding." Rubião, the gullible incomepoop, throws good money after bad journalism, and begins to dream of a seat in the Chamber of Deputies...
...them would suggest an idea for a lyric or hum a snatch of melody; if the other actively opposed it, out it went without argument. Some days, when working to a deadline, they might draft all but the last eight bars of a song, and each go home to dream up his own solution. After that, a song usually got about a week's polishing before both were satisfied...
...settling down in 1935 to placing weights for the 1,500 races a year at New York's four tracks (Aqueduct, Belmont, Jamaica, Saratoga). Blunt, owlish Louisianian Campbell remained blandly unperturbed by owners' and trainers' protests over his weight assignments, calmly pursued the handicapper's dream, i.e., a race so perfectly handicapped that all entries would finish in a dead heat. He came closer to perfection than any racing secretary in the U.S.; in 1944 got a triple dead heat in the Carter Handicap at Aqueduct...