Word: gauntness
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Half a world away Secretary of State Henry Kissinger was padding up and down the aisle of his Boeing 707 in black leather slippers, coat off, tie pulled down, harrying his staff between stops with Arabs and Jews. The gaunt Joe Sisco was at Kissinger's side. The two drove themselves across seven countries in six days, from banquet hall to conference table to the Sphinx, and then on through the sky as if sheer nerve and speed could reassemble that divided world. "You must not take the temperature every day," Kissinger cautioned his fellow travelers, who were measuring...
Grotesques seem to abound here; The old men who every night shuffle out in old bedroom slippers, head naked and gaunt over the walking stick without which even his incredibly slow progress would be impossible. The buck-toothed man, as if drawn by Grosz, handing out the fundamentalist Watchtower. The butcher-like businessman who refuses his subway seat to the cripple thrusting a certificate of disability into his face. The street hawker of lottery tickets, with 50 mark bills stuck around hat band and belt, and a sign announcing the "security" to be gained from the lottery. Lapses of taste...
...house was a gutted ruin rising gaunt and stark out of a grove of unpruned cedar trees," wrote William Faulkner about the Old Frenchman place in his 1931 novel Sanctuary. He might well have been thinking of Rowan Oak, the 1840 mansion he bought in 1930 in Oxford, Miss. Last week the University of Mississippi purchased the refurbished mansion from Faulkner's only daughter for part of a new cultural center. The study wall, with its manuscript chapter outlines of a Faulkner novel, is already a tourist attraction...
Representing her past is a gaunt, tortured relic of the concentration camp (Richard Cragun) who periodically surfaces to stir her nightmare visions. Just as the adagio tails off in an eerie diminuendo, Traces ends with the anguish of the woman left unresolved. But the role is enacted to near perfection by Marcia Haydée, surely the finest dancing actress...
...inner earth. To my ears came a faint, loathsome piping, like the whining, thin mockery of a single feeble flute that was to start an unwholesome elfin celebration. Just before I awoke, feverish and gasping, I noticed a cowled figure Who beckoned slowly to me, and with a gaunt finger pointed into Lovecraft's open sepulcher...