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Word: handly (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
Sort By: most recent first (reverse)


Usage:

...little room, & it's only there that I'm happy!" She was then internationally renowned but also trapped in a long, misbegotten marriage to / Edward R. (Teddy) Wharton, a hale fellow and manic-depressive whom her good friend Henry James suspected of being "cerebrally compromised." On the other hand, the Harvard-educated Fullerton, some three years her junior, had drifted into his 40s without accomplishing much of anything except a string of ex- lovers, male and female. Yet she listened with a lover's ears to the grand plans of her perpetually promising gentleman: "And when you spoke of your...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Public Triumph, Private Pain THE LETTERS OF EDITH WHARTON Edited by R.W.B. Lewis and Nancy Lewis; Scribner's; 654 pages; $29.95 | 7/25/1988 | See Source »

Caprio, who graduated just last month with a degree in economics, was attending his third Democratic national convention--he was on hand in New York City in 1980 and in San Francisco...

Author: By Frank E. Lockwood, SPECIAL TO THE CRIMSON | Title: New Graduate Caprio Votes For Dukakis | 7/22/1988 | See Source »

...then cease to communicate at all, as each parent tries to justify his daughter's death. Charlie retreats into his own thoughts when his best friend's mother refuses to let Servin play with him anymore because she feels her son might catch AIDS from touching Charlie's hand...

Author: By Katherine E. Bliss, | Title: Letting the Truth Ring Out | 7/22/1988 | See Source »

...story. As we discussed the changes, my mind began to transmogrify. His familiar visage took on the horrible features of Tezcatlipoca, Mexico's evil magician-god with blazing eyes and slobbering tongue. If one encounters this dreadful apparition, legend has it, one's only hope is to thrust a hand into the god's bloody chest cavity and seize its palpitating heart...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Essay: The Gods Are Crazy | 7/18/1988 | See Source »

...leaned forward in my chair, a trembling hand outstretched, an insistent question broke through my reverie: "Is everything clear?" "Right you are," I answered smartly. "The new version will be on your desk this afternoon." Back in my office, though, it was hard to concentrate. The little cursor on the blank computer screen blinked incessantly, like an accusing Cyclops. I felt like Sisyphus, endlessly, futilely pushing a rock up a hill. Oh, that I were Nabu, the Mesopotamian god of writing and destiny, whose powers could alter the days allotted to men in this life...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Essay: The Gods Are Crazy | 7/18/1988 | See Source »

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