Word: hates
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Fuller's stable have given Dancer's Image the drug-either purposely or mistakenly? Before last week's hearing, Owner Fuller complained of "gross negligence" in the security arrangements at Churchill Downs, and hinted: "Someone may have gotten to the horse." Although Fuller has received some hate mail lately-for donating $62,000 of Dancer's Image's winnings to Martin Luther King's widow-the idea that a stranger purposely drugged the horse is farfetched. Butazolidin is neither a stimulant nor a sedative; it cannot make a good race horse...
...baffled by some of the psychiatric allegations. "I don't know what an anal character would be. I tried to look it up in a dictionary, but I couldn't find it." Asked about the written charges that he feared and hated his wife, he replied, "I love my wife. I still do and always will. I don't know how you hate somebody you love." The whole business had "upset" him greatly, he said. He could take the usual sniping, "but when you come up with something like that that weighs several tons, the effect...
Sadistic Touch. Singing extroverts make popular parents. Victor loved his "cocksparrow" father once, and laconically concedes, "He charmed." But he delivers his prevailing opinion with icy finality "I hated my father." So deeply, in fact, that he had to hate what his father loved: "big men" (that is, those with money), nice "Things" (Father ended up in the "art needlework" business), and Christian Science...
...walks around thinking and talking (and I think it's close enough), then Dylan's mind is always popping with the same kind of surreal and often religious imagery that he strings together in his songs. And his desire to find out only what's true and his rabid hate for cant are sincere. The message is that Dylan's a bookish intellectual who thinks to melodies and casts his ideas in scenes. The message is that Dylan is great media because he writes songs as his natural outlet of expression about things he's thinking about because...
Whenever they can, the singers of Wait a Minim sneak on stage to express their musical thoughts about love or hate or anything else that happens to strike their fancy. Michel Martel clowns around, but also finds time to display a voice that can find its place in any octave. Helen Ireland, throaty and soothing, and Nigel Pegram, quiet and cynical, handle the familiar folk songs with an unfamiliar sense of style...