Word: glinted
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...background, the two chief negotiators in Geneva could hardly differ more. At 74, Paul Nitze is one of this country's oldest and most distinguished diplomats. At 45, Yuli Kvitsinsky is young indeed by the gerontocratic standards of Soviet officialdom. Nitze is elegant and urbane, with a glint of mischievous humor in his eye. The slightly pudgy Kvitsinsky is dour, outspoken and openly ambitious. Nitze is an experienced policymaker who had a hand in drafting his negotiating strategy; Kvitsinsky operates with narrow instructions from Moscow...
...lucky, the President will become a peace addict. Those who watched the applause sweep over Ronald Reagan after last week's speech on nuclear arms reduction thought they detected a new glint in his eye. He had received a needed fix. Peace is fun. Peace is box office. Peace diverts critics. Peace is good...
Approach first day's viewing with trepidation. Last soap opera seen was Senator Harrison Williams claiming innocence during breaks in the Abscam hearings. First scenes not reassuring: a short man in a blue blazer, with eyes that glint like brass buttons, is carrying through hideous plot. Details as thin as his hair, which is combed forward in little bangs. A sure sign of flabby moral fiber and questionable sexual orientation. Only precedent, either thespian or tonsorial, is Frank Thring as Pontius Pilate in Ben-Hur. What he did to Charlton Heston the fellow in the blue blazer is doing...
...symptoms: eyes focused in the middle distance, a smile as wide as a convert's and a telltale glint of metal covering the ears. The body may undulate with faint intimations of a boogie. Sometimes the hands fly upward in imaginary conducting motions. No doubt about it, it is an epidemic, brought on by America's mania not only for music, but for the gadgetry on which to play it. On streets, in parks, on bikes and buses, the latest transistor toy is the portable stereo cassette player. Weighing less than a pound and smaller than a paperback...
When he could play, Bill Walton was the Man Mountain of basketball, a flame-haired, 6-ft. 11-in., 225-lb. human wall beneath the basket. The true measure of his greatness was the glint in his eyes, the concentrated, almost maniacal fury that burned when he leaped to block a shot or scanned the floor before rifling an outlet pass on a fast break. That intensity made Walton one of the finest and most feared centers of his generation...