Word: fits
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...spent a lot of my time on the boat that summer--probably more than is healthy--trying to figure out who I would be when I got here. I poured over all the student publications I could get my hands on, trying to fit the Hypothetical me set to launch Sept. 15 into the world of the Harvard campus. Harvard, as it turns out, is the perfect place to reinvent yourself if that's what you want to do. It's a considerable violation of campus decorum to ask too much about your classmates' high school background, mostly because doing...
...president, every time. No need, in effect, to decide what you wanted, because you knew what Harvard or Stanford or Princeton wanted, and it was within your capabilities. You may not have had to go through the painful process of deciding into what clique you fit. You had your own: the Best, respected by all. Since this section is titled "My First Year," I should state the obvious and say this was my experience in high school...
...probably would not do anything with the Mir. It does not fit the mission profile for tourists in space. Our mission plan is to provide the tourist with an artificial-gravity environment by spinning the facility. If you do that on the Mir, it falls apart. --Gregory Bennett, V.P., Bigelow Aerospace, a firm developing space cruises and hotels...
When a man becomes a father, he is suddenly inflated to the size of the Sta-Puf Marshmallow Man in Ghostbusters. His shoes don't fit; his hatband leaves a mark. He can barely see his feet, at which his children gather, look up and can barely see his head. And the weight! I have tried to dredge my father from his ocean floor for nearly 25 years, since he went down, at the fairly young age of 67. In a decade or so, I will be older that he is, or was, yet I come no closer to reaching...
...events when the poet Ingrid Magnussen poisons her lover, consigning herself to a jail life and her 12-year-old daughter to Los Angeles' foster-care system. Young Astrid gets off to a shaky start at the home of a born-again Christian who shoots her in a fit of righteous jealousy. She survives that, though, as well as prison notes from her mother, which include sentiments like this: "Sometimes I wish you were dead, so I would know you were safe." Fitch tends to get lost in the lyricism of her prose, but there are satisfying moments of clarity...