Word: glare
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Suddenly we were blinded by a bright glare. We had broken through into the center of the doughnut. It was like coming out of a tunnel. Wind velocity dropped at least one-half in the space of seconds. The plane righted itself and started climbing, but in a minute and a half we crossed the relative calm of the center and smashed into the other side...
...children are always the newcomers, because, of course, they have been most repressed. New pupils often work out their repressed hate of their elders by biting, scratching, swearing interminably and "being generally anti-social." Says Mrs. Neill: "A small boy will sometimes walk in here, fix me with a glare and say, 'You stupid bitch.' But it doesn't mean anything to me. I know he's working up some hate he has." Sometimes the little fellow returns and says experimentally: 'You silly cow.'" Mrs. Neill fails to react, and the boy is supposed...
What they saw through the purple glare of the neon signs more than warranted Oakley's remark. In the yellow-floored, blue-walled shop were 20 barber chairs upholstered in pastel-blue leather. Behind them stretched long strips of mirror topped by germ-killing lamps. Above each chair, from the sound-proofed ceiling, shone a spotlight. On the small pink-&-blue mezzanine in the rear there were two more chairs for children, surrounded by giraffe-shaped palm pots...
...snack bar of Frankfurt's Rhein-Main airport, a German girl sits with her G.I. fiancé. He is a slight, blond boy of perhaps 18; she is a blonde, bulging, overbearing, with a broad, white face, narrow, calculating eyes and a smile like the flat glare of an electric light that turns on & off at the touch of a switch. She leans with both elbows on the table and in a loud and domineering voice orders ice cream from the tired German waitress, while the boy follows her movements with a young dog's eyes. Outside...
...would soon become so excited by a point that his chair would scarcely hold him. But his natural dignity never deserted him. When reading a poem aloud, he would sometimes come upon a passage so affecting that he could not read it. He would thrash his legs indignantly, glare at his students, loudly clear his throat, and then try the passage again. Some of his students would swear that he never got half way through Wordsworth's Michael without having to stop...