Word: ear
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...wait a minute. Careful there, Mack, you're stepping on my sneakers ... I hear ya' man, don't snap your elbows on my ear ... I mean, like don't push ... the jacket, the jacket, man, you're wrinkling the bird; that's an engraved eagle ... okay, okay, I'm going ... the hula hoop is choking me ... acchhh...
...morning last week Venezuela's Communist Party boss. Gustavo Machado, walked into the Caracas house of Rear Admiral Wolfgang Larrazabal, leading presidential candidate and (until he started campaigning) head of the ruling junta. Half an hour later, smiling from ear to ear. Machado came out with a document. On it was Larrazábal's signature, officially accepting the support of the Communist Party in the Dec. 7 election...
Space, Time & Snobbery. From the Terrace has all the O'Hara virtues and all the defects of those virtues. His ear for dialogue has never been truer, but when page after page of unselective trivia has been set down, the reader finds himself aching for an earplug. O'Hara continues to describe the nuances of social habit with rare authority in a society in which social flux continuously alters the symbols of prestige. But the snobbism of the right prep school, the right club, the right street in the right exurb becomes so intrusive that Terrace often reads...
...last weakening glints of somnolent sunlight stepped and tinged the twigged collection of bramble burrowback lines over the etched and mutable prone profile of perpetual hills. The earth darkened and saddened into wraith-like russet, and the chant of cunning melancholy evaporated from the remembering ear and might have materialized in the cinnamon-brown clouds that brushed like a dark breath over the cheek of the softening mocha and amethyst horizon. The east slipped to peace amid a resentment of raddled colors, the sun dipped beneath the great lip of the earth's rim and the landscape dark...
...prose consists of what one character well calls "a potful of fancy-Dan wordage," there are many stretches of an astonishing Louisiana dialect, for which Author Keyes declares herself indebted to a lady friend (who has worked for the Opelousas daily World and has an "almost infallible ear for the nuances of local speech"). "I strive to please," Novelist Keyes confesses. To a striving author, Victorine should be worth its weight in gold slippers...