Word: erect
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...being loth to consider a defendant's intentions. Now, as he is pronounced innocent of the murder of his wife, he is admonished by the presiding judge that because he intended to perform the act, he is in fact legally innocent but morally guilty. Rising, Judge Calvin Cooke stands erect and addresses the court thus: "In the future, your Honor, I shall take heed of mens' intentions as well as their actions. For I have learned that while a man may be legally innocent while morally guilty, he may also be legally guilty but morally innocent...
...retire to your chair and wait; when the fish bites the bob and the flag are pulled into the water and begin waving vigorously. Then you have to unlock the fish and rebait the hook. "Bobhouse fishing," a popular variant of this sport, requires a little hut which you erect over the hole so as to keep warm while watching the red flag for action...
...Dramatic Struggle. Now, at 65, Ortega is not much changed by his years in exile. He has wandered from France to Argentina and to Portugal. But he is still the erect and fastidious intellectual, forever on guard against spotting his suits, always using his long holders to prevent cigarette stains. "If there is something that characterizes my life," he says, "it is that I have had to struggle with the world's dramatic future-the future always tending to shake the ground of the present on which I had my feet." Far into the night, Ortega still struggles with...
Tojo, Matsui, Doihara and Muto were led into the prison courtyard while the other three waited in a Buddhist chapel. Frost was forming on the courtyard ground, and the air was misty. The four old men stood erect in G.I. fatigues. Matsui, shaking with age and cold and palsy, raised a quavering cry: "Tenno heika banzai! (May the Emperor live 10,000 years!)." The other three quaveringly took it up: "Banzai, banzai, banzai...
Precisely at 4, the band in the Plaza Mexico broke into the traditional Andalusian Skies, and the winter bullfighting season was on. In his box halfway up the ring's shady side, an erect, piercing-eyed old man in a broad-brimmed black hat glared about him. The wind was too strong for good bullfighting, he groused; the sun too bright. In their brilliantly colored capotes de paseo (parade capes), the toreros marched into the ring. "No elegance!" the old man harrumphed...