Word: eye
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...several uneasy weeks, the peace cavalcade had been marking time. With an eye to a nervous ally, unpredictable voters and future historians, Richard Nixon had stayed the negotiations, waiting for the election to pass. But now the momentum has resumed. Ending North Viet Nam's holdout against a reopening of the talks on its nine-point plan, Hanoi's negotiator Le Duc Tho arrived in Paris (via Peking and Moscow) aboard an Aeroflot jet, expressing hopes to "rapidly settle" the remaining issues. In Washington, Henry Kissinger gathered his notes and his aides and flew off to join...
...teen-age master suggests a stringent life-style for his devotees, devoid of drugs, sex, tobacco and alcohol. In exchange he offers the gift of knowledge designed to open the initiate's "third eye" of inner awareness and thus bring him perpetual peace. Knowledge sessions sometimes last twelve hours or more and are conducted by 2,000 delegated mahatmas throughout the world. "If you can become perfect," the Maharaj Ji told his disciples in Delhi's Ram Lila Grounds last week, "you can see God. That...
...strengthen its weak showing in the Sunday-night ratings, CBS announced that it would drop two situation comedies, The Sandy Duncan Show and Anna and the King, a handsome but rather tired nonmusical rehash of The King and I. In their place the network laid on a private-eye show starring Buddy Ebsen, who played the daddy in The Beverly Hillbillies, a CBS staple several seasons...
Boxes figure large in his work; and each box, with its lid and compartments and sliding drawers, is a microcosm. At first one is seduced by the greeny blue, aquarium-like interior of Box 17 (Box C). Then the eye discerns the contents, wavering amid their reflections from the walls: a glass goblet filled with a bouquet not of flowers but of vicious glass shards; a morbified pink foot; a small geometrical plastic construction, reclining like a tiny fakir on a bed of nails...
Sometimes Eugene O'Neill seems like the Ancient Mariner of drama. He holds us with his glittering eye. He harangues us with his banal tongue and his repetitive nightmare about the cursed albatross that haunts his fevered imagination: his family, the restive dead. His soap-opera prose alone ought to chloroform any ghost. But somehow O'Neill slings the albatross round our necks and makes us grieve and attend to his tale of fearful...