Word: garretful
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...Ayer, 35 leading commercial artists exhibited their sideline, non-advertising art. Their somewhat defiant aim: to disprove the patronizing theory that the commercial artist is "a renegade who rides in a Lincoln-Zephyr V-12," whereas an "artist" is a "pure spirit who munches crusts in a garret." Say they: "They're often one and the same person." The show's 40 items were the work of artists whose main problem is to entice consumers with dream women, seductive bathtub scenes, irresistible automobiles, travel-teasing landscapes, nostalgic farm scenes, etc. (for which their fees range from...
...last reports from darkest Austria, Kurt von Schuschnigg was still alive, had been spirited to the Nazi-guarded Wittelsbach Palace near Munich, after an attempt to rescue him from solitary confinement in the garret of the Hotel Metropole in Vienna. *"To pay $20 or $25 a bottle for what is known . . . as 'original Chartreuse' (that manufactured before the expulsion from France of the Pères Chartreux) is . . . to pay a matter of $15 for a superiority which simply does not exist" (Schoonmaker and Marvel, The Complete Wine Book...
...shutting behind him when he left college finally. Have to get a job doing something. Well, then, he'd be free to salvage civilization. Young man; no responsibilities. Political work, newspaper campaigns, social work with Vag as the driving force behind it all. Food, shelter, clothing? A sandwich, his garret, his leather-elbowed jacket. Life was going to be far above a grubby, materialistic plane. This time the voice was cutting. "And the wife and kids?" it sneered almost viciously. Oh. Vag had forgotten. Yes, there was the Wellesley apparition to be considered, loved, fed, and--he winced...
...prove that he was first. Confronted by conflicting claims, Congress did nothing. Morton died a pauper in 1868. Jackson went mad, died in an asylum several years later. During the Civil War, Long buried his documents in the woods. Later he dug them up and stored them in the garret. He died an embittered old man in 1878. And nobody has the clear credit...
...shutting behind him when he left college finally. Have to get a job doing something. Well, then, he'd be free to salvage civilization. Young man; no responsibilities. Political work, newspaper campaigns, social work with Vag as the driving force behind it all. Food, shelter, clothing? A sandwich, his garret, his leather-elbowed jacket. Life was going to be far above a grubby, materialistic plane. This time the voice was cutting. "And the wife and kids?" it sneered almost viciously. Oh. Vag had forgotten. Yes, there was the Wellesley apparition to be considered, loved, fed, and--he winced...