Word: formless
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...only to enquire, to conjure up a whole vista of time-coulisses opening out infinitely, as in mockery." But there are records which go back far beyond history's short memory, "pious abbreviations" of real events. "Certainly it becomes clearer and clearer that the dream memory of man, formless but shaping itself ever anew after the manner of sagas, reaches back to catastrophes of vast antiquity, the tradition of which, fed by recurrent but lesser similar events, established itself among various peoples and produced that formation of coulisses which forever lures and leads onwards the traveller in time." Such...
...formless mash of newspaper words finally distilled itself last week into headlines like this...
...DEATH OF A WORLD-Remain Rol-land-Holt ($3.50). "The master ringers are Business and Money: politics have had their day. Economics reigns. And it certainly cannot be said that wisdom chokes them! For they have not always a human countenance. They are often octopuses, formless anonymous monsters, whose thousand arms grope, and whose blind trunks lap in the dark. And the few individuals, whose personalities . . . still keep afloat . . . are nearly all, today, artificial products, without roots or seeds, without ancestors or descendants, without ties, associates or future." This is the theme of the latest stave in Romain Rolland...
...become a hopeless hodge-podge of the two. With a few exceptions, critics have lacked a training broad enough to comprehend the rational place of music among the other arts and its true relation to life. In fact, musical criticism, especially in the last few years, has been emotional, formless, and unreliable. In the few essays collected for the first time, the late Andrew Fraser has set n example and laid a foundation for the future...
...pearl-handled revolver loaded with five ordinary bullets and a special silver one. All of a sudden he will hear the distant beat of tom-toms, 72 to a minute and he will start supposedly into a forest, spend his first bullet at thick of night on formless, brightwood creatures who will mock him. His second bullet will go for a Pullman porter, dead long before from a razor-slash in a crap game; his third for a prison-guard whose head he has already bashed with a shovel; his fourth and fifth for an auctioneer and a planter trying...