Word: gazing
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...ideology after the errors of the last century. French intellectuals are not international enough, not open-minded enough about the world. France needs to open up a bit. It's too hierarchical, too pyramidal. All the Baverezes of the earth are at the top of the pyramid, and they gaze down and evaluate French society. They're like the cork in a champagne bottle judging the champagne. That cork has to pop so we can taste the champagne. How will you pop the cork? Through decentralization and a new organization that gives more power to civil society. The state...
Dershowitz leans forward when he speaks, clasping his hands together and fixing an unwavering gaze on his audience. He exhibits the same steady attention when listening, despite the fact that his office, even on a Friday afternoon, swarms with activity. The room is filled with boxes of books, phones constantly ringing and assistants continually typing...
...when they do, it is usually The Odyssey they turn to. That picaresque travelogue through the wilder outposts of ancient Greece has inspired ordinary films (Kirk Douglas in a mid-'50s Ulysses), funny ones (the Coen brothers' O Brother, Where Art Thou?) and one masterpiece (Theo Angelopoulos' Ulysses' Gaze, a mesmeric synopsis of a century of Greek history). But where's The Iliad? Hard to find, except in the 1956 Helen of Troy, a sober retelling from the Trojans' point of view...
Massachusetts state trooper Todd McGhee moved through Terminal B at Boston's Logan International Airport last week and locked his gaze on a scruffy young man with no suitcase leaning against a window. As the powerfully built 6-ft. 3-in. officer approached, wearing his Sig Sauer handgun and a peaked hat, the man began to move in the other direction. "Are you flying today, sir?" said McGhee. It took him less than a minute of questioning to confirm that this was just a kid waiting to pick up a family friend...
...being carried from the building towards the wailing of approaching ambulance sirens. Nearby, naked torsos littered the pavement and embassy doorways. Little crimson lakes of blood pooled on the concrete. People dashing in and out of the building stepped high over the dead, some without looking down, their gaze fixed ahead. The wounded went to the ambulances first. As each ambulance filled it raced off, only to be replaced by another. When the time came the dead were gingerly lifted, some scooped up in messy bundles. All were quickly wrapped in whatever was at hand; a white scarf, a vibrant...