Word: hawked
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...stop the bombing of the North and withdraw all troops from Indochina, in return for the release of U.S. P.O.W.s, "within 60 days of my inauguration." Hubert Humphrey, his chief centrist rival, knows that he is tarred with having been Lyndon Johnson's Vice President, and having turned from hawk to dove. He told a hissing University of Pennsylvania audience last week: "I hope some of you will have the courage to change your mind when you find that what you've been doing isn't the right thing...
...dropped their 30-ton bomb loads into the darkness over Haiphong from 30,000 feet. The explosions destroyed a petroleum tank farm near the Haiphong harbor quay, provoking a fireball so large that it was seen from the bridge of the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk 110 miles out at sea in the Gulf of Tonkin...
...understand, but a lot of the newcomers weren't exactly the kind of Freaks you and I have been seeing down at Tommy's Lunch for the past couple of years. Quite a few of them looked like they got their hair styled at Annapolis. And they didn't hawk The Phoenix for a living either. These boys operated heavy equipment during the week. Steamshovels, Graders, Clamshells, Backhoes, Incredible stuff, flcrissake. It was like Volpe Construction Company and the Boston Park League all rolled into...
...Hawk's Well begins just before young Cuchulain's first meeting with Aoife. The play is done partly in the style of the Japanese Noh drama, a form that intrigued Yeats for its simplicity and ritual: it begins with the ceremonous unfolding and folding of a large cloth, a less mechanical and more suggestive device than a curtain for marking the division between the presence of actors and the progress of a play. William Barnum's slow and deliberate opening mime as the Old Man at the elusive fountain of immortality does more to set the scene than the other...
...December from his Ipswich home! With long legs and arms that flopped around with nonchalant grace, he scaled the Crimson steps looking like a suburban squire should, work-booted, wearing nondescript dungarees and a good sweater gone bad. With eyes looking out from a face somewhere between a hawk's and a gnome's, he glanced at the fading pictures of fading editors on our tack-marked cork bulletin board, and asked the photographer. "How did you get those black borders on them?" Mechanical details and competence in mastering them impressed him--part of the reason he wrote Rabbit Redux...