Word: felted
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...week. Two years ago, a similarly underrated Yovicsin team rolled undefeated up to the Princeton game, but expired on a fourth down and one at the Tiger 25. This could happen today. Princeton has all the makings of a superb football team: good runners and a sound defense. Brown felt the crush last week, and unless Harvard goes all out, that six hour trip home could seem considerably longer. On the record, Harvard should be a heavy favorite by as much as 24-6. By instinct, I would pick Princeton. With prayer, however, I call a seventh straight victory...
...that The People vs. Ranchman is a bad play. It is not out to be a good one, in terms of drama's traditional concern with fate, foibles, language and ideas. Like the propaganda playlets of guerrilla theater (TIME, Oct. 18), this play is intended to be a felt experience for the audience-firsthand rather than projected. Yelling and chanting, the actors mingle with the playgoers on the way to their seats. No makeup is used, the lights are always up, there is no intermission, and the actors-usually within touching distance-frequently appeal to, or bark...
...result of De Gaulle's go-ahead, Bercot and Agnelli last week were hard at work trying to iron out details, such as what the "organism's" corporate name should be and where it should be head quartered (perhaps in Switzerland). Still, Bercot, for one, felt confident enough about the outcome to hail the agreement as a purely "European solution" to the threat of American industrial dominance on the Continent...
Quivering Wings. In the fierce wind at Djémila, he finds the natural renewal that defies the despair leading to suicide: "The violent bath of sun and wind drained me of all strength. I scarcely felt the quivering of wings inside me, life's complaint, the wea' rebellion of the mind. Soon, scattered to the four corners of the earth, self-forgetful and self-forgotten, I am the wind and within it, the columns and the archway, the flagstones warm to the touch, the pale mountains around the deserted city. And never have I felt so deeply...
...loved his daughters very much...but they were girls and he sometimes felt that because they loved him, he could not make a serious mistake with them. If he did something wrong, they being women would grow up around the mistake and somehow convert it to knowledge. But his sons! He had the feeling that because they were men, their egos were more fragile--a serious error might hurt them forever. --Norman Mailer, Armies of the Night...