Word: hates
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Dates: during 1880-1889
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...Willard each singing a solo, and Longworth playing a solo on the violin. The club has twenty-four members: First tenors-Rice, Ruggles, Parker, Blaney, Willard, Scott; second tenors-Liscomb, White, King, Morton, Hayes; first bases-Williams, Frame, Holt, Marple, Washburn. J. W. Rice, Geary; second basses-Griffin, Hate, Hopkinson, Cannon, Longstreth, Embick, Alkinson. The officers of the club are: President, Atkinson; secretary, Hopkinson; leader, Liscomb...
...them are often ignorant and dangerous men; (b) the organization has a tendency to train members to obey their leaders, rather than the laws of the country; (c) it teaches them erroneous principles of political economy; (d) it leads men to be discontented with their station in life, to hate capitalists, and to attempt violence in order to bring about a change in the present social order.- Nation...
...indicate, that to nine-tenths of us a compulsory service is utterly distasteful and wrong. We know better than Dr. Hale what effect this service is having on the college. We know better than he that seniors go away from Harvard without religious belief, and with only a bitter hate and contempt in their hearts for the methods employed here to make them "moral." We know better than he what a spiritual waste and loss our present system carries with it. The taste of Dead Sea apples is very fresh in our mouths...
...nothing inspired in his own poetry. I must confess to having felt the same mortification. There is my friend C., who has wonderful visions in his sleep; and when in a tone of conscious superiority, he tells me of them, I become so jealous as almost to grow to hate him. Why, a short time ago he dreamed of the end of the world; and the rocks were cleft, as he stood before the old University library at Cambridge. Suddenly the earth yawned, and there bustled out of the chasm, with a roar from a long silver trumpet...
...gony. I shall not attempt to describe the murder, for the details of it are confused with recollections of what I had just been reading in De Quincey. What I remember most is my own face glancing at me, as the murder went on, with looks of mockery and hate. Then the room suddenly filled with people. I recollect the chill of fear I felt as the instinct of self preservation rushed over my mind. Then with body and soul no longer separate, but united, I know not how, I dashed through the window, and plunging out into the darkness...