Word: glared
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...agonies special shells will be used and wireless-controlled pumps will try to keep her above water. If by some desperate chance she survives, the once proud Iowa will be sold as junk. Night attacks upon the Panama Canal defenses, thought to be impregnable, will be made under the glare of searchlights and beneath the Caribbean moon. Two scout fleets of fast cruisers and destroyers will contest each other under cover of smoke screens and protecting airplanes. At the end of the month force-practice and depth-charge practice will be held in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Later, in April...
Disillusionment is the keynote of the age. History refutes herself, and under the merciless glare of modern research our once-revered idols totter on feet of veriest clay. Mark Twain started the thankless job. Unflinchingly he exposed the Father of our country, showing not only that the magnificent truth about the cherry tree was a sagacious bit of publicity which led directly to the Presidency, but that his supplementary statement that "he could not tell a lie" was even more carefully calculated to preserve his name to perpetuity. Now a beacon-light of politics is shattered when we learn that...
...ultimate disappearance of footlights before the glare of motion-pictures has seemed at times probable. Thousands of smaller American communities once used to boast some sort of true stage--if it were only for an occasional appearance of little Eva and two cocker-spaniel blood-hounds -- where now a "Palace" of the "Silver Screen" throws its bright lights upon Main Street. And the advent of life like color into the "movies" is already tending to make their hold the more secure. But even the best created picture, as long as it cannot reproduce the human voice, must fall short...
Once again the lighting was bad, though better than on the previous night. The scenery too had taken a turn for the better. The bounder of Marguerite Gautier looked as if it too had been purified by love until the frantic glare of all available footlights and borders broke the spell of the darkness...
...band or the orchestra strikes up the first bars, we stand, remove our hats, and begin valiantly with the heroic query of "Oh say, can you see?" Finding that no one can see we relapse into a humming monotone, cheerful, although unintelligible. It is only at "the rockets' red glare, the bombs' bursting in air," that our patriotic choruses come out with full assurance again. That bit or warlike description has fixed in our memory where other things have faded. This speaks somewhat for the power of our associations with the 4th of July...