Word: fitly
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...hour he had carefully counted out the little pills that would keep his central nervous system, if not his mind, ticking, ticking like a clock that would never wind down, at least not until March. Counted them out in piles of fives until there were too many piles to fit on the coffee table, too many to fit on the card table, too many to fit on the dresser. And now, loafing around the room, were 400 tiny piles of time--2000 little capsules, each containing eight or ten hours they would miraculously yield up to him, eight...
...that Carlo didn't try to fit in at first. Prescott St. was an all-male dorm, and natural selection took a heavy toll: either you learned to like beer and Monday Night football or you perished from sheer loneliness. So Carlo sipped his Budweiser and learned to hate Cosell, but all the time he wanted to be cruising up the social ladder after some debutante, wearing topsiders and down vest and talking like a Cabot. The problem was, he stood in the middle of the battleground...
...full-blooded preppies, the ones who dropped in after the punch and only cared who won if they had a ten spot riding on the outcome. Carlo had no excuse to come in late and he had neither genuine enthusiasm nor money to bet, so he didn't fit in anywhere...
...overwhelming preponderance of professors. Many of them work closely with the government. The university, being tied so closely by money, direction and participation, not surprisingly reflects the basic power relationships of the larger society. As the university is presently constituted, we must admit that in some instance Kissinger would fit quite nicely--as would Rusk, Rostow, and others. But we do not acquiesce to the present state of the university or society. In our position as students, it is imperative that we struggle to make the university a truly free and open place, and not a factory for grinding...
...four-tiered wedding cake calls for 16 pounds of currants. There was the history bulletin: Hudson snaps shut his newspaper (the time is 1930) and announces that two million Englishmen are unemployed. There was the subtle reminder that no servant is a heroine to her mistress: in an unusual fit of garrulity, Personal Maid Rose blurts out a childhood memory to Virginia Bellamy. Ever so slightly, the good lady's eyes begin to glaze over...