Word: dreams
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Then, suddenly, nine hours had passed like a distorted dream, and the wind-god raged moaning up the northeast coast toward Pensacola. No more would sport coats and plumed hats" stroll at Hialea Race track. It was gone. No more would dandies strut and women preen in Carl Fisher's fashionable Flamingo Hotel. It was wrecked. Five hundred bodies soaked in the streets, some wretchedly askew under logs, others stretched out peacefully by the Chamber of Commerce. Where had been one mammoth mansion sat a lone bathtub. And ghouls peered about, tampered with corpses...
...your own children, who are dearer to you than the ruddy drops that gather in your hearts. I do this for the sake of my own little daughters and the homes they are to make some day, perhaps for some of your misguided sons. ... I hold aloft this picture dream of my own girlies and declare: 'These are my jewels.' And these are my reasons, my radiant, priceless reasons, for making no compromise before the angels of heaven or the demons of hell with the poisoned enemies of our homes, our churches, our schools, and our threatened civilization...
...look practical. Last week, however, Senor Arango found his man, clambered joyfully into a cockpit, waved goodbye to watching thousands, crept out on the plane's wing tip at 3,000 feet, stepped backwards into empty air. The parachute clung to his back like a bad dream, unopened. The Gulf of Mexico rolling absently splashed once. Rescuers found no whole bone* in Senor Arango's corpse...
Last week, sunbeams crept softly through the penitentiary bars, glistened on tears of joy in the eyes of Mr. Langley, who was composing a telegram to his darling, Spouse Langley. His words flowed like a dream in the Vale of Tempe: "I am supremely happy. Even these grey prison walls seem to shine with the lustre of our beloved Cumberland and Blue Ridge. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. May He bless and keep always the good men and women and all our children of the Kentucky Mountains. My love and greetings...
...Waltz Dream. Another German film of rare and easy excellence has been made from Oscar Straus' operetta. Simplicity and graceful common sense have replaced the million dollar dowdiness that would have suffused the film if made in almost any U. S. studio. The story is slight, telling of a frosty Princess and her not particularly interested Prince consort. The latter prefers a blonde from a beer garden. None of the actors are notable here. All of them in their strange Teutonic way are excellent...