Word: grand
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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During December 1948 and January 1949, Hiss insisted to the FBI and a grand jury that he did not know what had happened to the typewriter; probably, he said, Priscilla had sold it to a junk dealer. But Weinstein found a letter in the defense files demonstrating that as early as Dec. 1, 1948, Hiss knew that Priscilla had given the typewriter in April 1938 to the son of a former maid. Says Weinstein: "While the FBI searched frantically for the machine, Hiss's brother Donald, aided by the maid's son, traced the typewriter in February 1949 but said...
...Rodeo Drive (pronounced Road-eh-oh) looks like any other shopping street in the fertile crescent of Beverly Hills. The buildings tend to be one-and two-story structures, pastel, neo-Spanish, neo-20th Century-Fox. Even the ficus trees lining the street seem to be part of a grand design by Potemkin. Still, the veteran spendthrift arriving on Rodeo Drive has a sense of déjà vu. No, the street does not possess the discreet elegance of Paris' Rue du Faubourg-St.-Honoré, the stylishness of Rome's Via Condotti or the hustling excitement of Manhattan's Fifth Avenue...
...transform history into nonsense. Washington: Behind Closed Doors, for all its fictionalizations, presented a symbolically credible portrait of moral chaos in Nixon's White House. Both King and Ruby and Oswald claim to be based on fact -and contain obvious inaccuracies. But such things matter less than the grand design-the overall impression that the facts, both real and suspect, deliver...
...scarce in the last three-fourths of the book); testimonials work wonders (Ogilvy quotes verbatim an honorary degree citation awarded him by Adelphi University). The adman is now retired to a 37-bedroom medieval French chateau. There he continues to produce work that sounds less like a grand seigneur than a great copywriter: "How would you like to watch a Wall Creeper running up and down the apricot walls?" he writes. "You lunch in the garden in the shade of a seventeenth-century holly tree...
Always the grand parades of cellulite...