Word: faintest
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...aides have made dozens of speeches, talked to hundreds of world leaders and officials. Neither the bombing, the surging U.S. buildup in the past six months, nor the success of the American fighting man against the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese regulars had seemed to produce the faintest waver in Communist intent...
Almost unnoticeably, other features have been fading. First to go was the vivid mouth. By 1961 beige lipsticks, or maybe the faintest pink or tangerine, were de rigueur. Next, bright rouge was replaced by the merest tint of color brushed on the cheekbone to accent the eye. Now eyebrows have to go. Cosmeticians have decided they are merely distracting. Short of shaving them off (shaved brows sometimes won't grow back), the experts are advocating any camouflage method: bleaching, masking them with foundation creams, or even covering them up with a fringe of bangs...
Peter O'Toole deserves the faintest applause for his fussy posturing as a Parisian fashion editor. He is supposedly irresistible to women, and they to him. So he delays marrying a determined fraülein (Romy Schneider), consults a sex-crazed Viennese analyst (Peter Sellers), and calls forth memories of his sexual prowess, filmed appropriately in dull blue-grey hues. When O'Toole isn't reminiscing, he is bedding or about to bed Romy, a Crazy Horse stripper (Paula Prentiss), a groundling nymphomaniac (Capucine) or a nymphomaniac who descends by parachute (Ursula Andress). Sellers dresses...
...mild one that the African politicians who shout for reform and whoop up riots are essentially the same sort of men as the British consuls they are replacing. Novelist Fowler, who was a colonial officer in Asia and Africa for 30 years, allows himself only the faintest nostalgia; the best of his Africans is a fine old chief who cannot adjust to the disorder of independence and who fights more stubbornly than any Briton to preserve the old, colonial rule...
Lost Position. The game ends; Federov's reflections dissipate, having amounted to no computable sum of meaning or meaninglessness. The reader, if he finishes the novel, finishes it without the faintest notion of why the author began it. To this riddle there is no clue in Shaw's recent pronouncement that a writer "is engaged in the long process of putting his whole life on paper; he is on a journey and he is reporting in, giving his position at certain moments of that journey: 'This is where I think I am and this is what this...