Word: graved
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Some weeks ago, according to a story going the rounds in Haiti, Dictator François Duvalier sent a secret emissary to John Kennedy's grave in Arlington Cemetery. There the emissary collected a pinch of earth, a withered flower, and in a small bottle took a sample of air from the graveside. He then returned to Haiti, where he delivered the items to Duvalier. "Papa Doc," as Duvalier calls himself, wanted them for a voodoo incantation, hoping to imprison Kennedy's soul, make it subject to his will, and thus influence the U.S. State Department...
...workers, demographers and Catholic priests from 20 countries. "The problem of our time," said former Colombian President Alberto Lleras Camargo, "is that through new drugs we have managed to control death. But we have not been able to control the giving of new life. And the result is a grave crisis of overcrowding, unemployment, slums, misery and violence." With an annual growth rate of 3.5% (v. about 2% for India and Red China), Latin America's population has ballooned to 240 million, and is expanding faster than any other in the world. In Venezuela, the population has doubled...
...credit, he is far and away the most recorded classical singer ever. While enthusiastic about the wealth of opera roles he has yet to try, Fischer-Dieskau is less optimistic about the future of the lieder. "There is no question that contemporary music finds itself in a grave crisis," he says sadly. "As a result, there are far too few lieder being written now. For all purposes, this art form is extinct...
...model for Kazantzakis' most successful novel, who taught him "to love life and have no fear of death." Another flash reveals the writer in the throes of creation, dipping his pen into his own blood: "Writing may have been a game in other ages. Today it is a grave duty, to proclaim a state of mobilization, to urge men to do their utmost to surpass the beast...
what I dared not hope or fight for is, in my fifties, mine, a toft-and-croft where I needn't, ever, be at home to those I am not at home with, not a cradle, a magic Eden without clocks, and not a windowless grave, but a place I may go both...