Word: graved
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...kindest critics could only say that the girl Uldine was too young to catch the meaning of such lilting verses. To the Preacher Progress is futile, Effort ridiculous, Work leading but to the grave. Well might Utley-urged readers doubt whether so spirited a young lady would knowingly propagate this doctrine of Quietism, which all good U. S. citizens despise as encouraging to slothfulness and indolence; which is down right laziness and against the principles of business...
Slavic peasants know that wampirs ("blood-sucking ghosts") flit eerily about at night, fixing their terrible fangs on human victims, draining out blood. Therefore, the corpse of a wampir (vampire) remains always fresh and rosy in the grave, nourished by the blood sucked by the vampire ghost at night. Effective means of exterminating vampires are: to drive a stake through the blood-nourished corpse; cut off the head; tear out the entrails. So say the wise sages of the Balkans, and so simple peasants believe...
...Soviet executor merely walked into the room where stood Prince Dolgorukovo, drew a revolver, and shot him, without preliminaries, in the back of the head. Soon the corpse of Prince Dolgorukovo was flung into a cart with those of 18 executed criminals, dumped with these into a common grave...
...grave task lies before the Faculty. Unless the proposed change is inaugurated with caution, forethought minute attention, and rigid determination to exact the responsibility that goes with freedom, it will either accomplish nothing or will wreck more students than we can afford to lose. Advisers, assistants, course instructors, examiners, and "the Office," all must put their shoulders to the wheel. Our main reliance is upon the tutors. Without them the plan would never have been suggested and without their hearty cooperation it cannot succeed. Their intimate personal relationship with their students will count for more than any other safeguard...
...codes are dying and time trembles for a birth. Thus, the cedar forests remain but in places they are being leveled to pay gambling debts. Barons and landlords still shoot capercailzies at dawn and snipe at sunset, or shoot one another in grave "affairs of honor." Yet here is a man, a little crazed perhaps, who finds dueling a pitiable farce and who would rather watch the love-antics of moorfowl at sunrise than slaughter them. In the white castles and proud manors, dames still drill their men-servants, still preserve an ancient ritual for meals and marriage, dancing...