Word: human
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Death and decay loomed large in Maeterlinck's works. "Everywhere," wrote a critic, "Maeterlinck discerned signs of an inevitable decadence of the human race . . . According to him, 2,000 years hence human relations will have declined to the level of life in a termite colony." The insects whose lives he studied for years seemed better off than people. "The ant is far less unhappy," wrote Maeterlinck, "than the very happiest...
With M.N.R. once more on the march, Hertzog's ministers pleaded with him to stay. Hertzog's unhappy answer: "Gentlemen, I appeal to your human feelings to let me go." During the month or two that the 62-year-old President planned to rest in the lower altitudes of northwest Bolivia's yungas (valleys), elegant, easygoing Vice President Mamerto Urriolagoitia would take over at the palace. Many Bolivians feared that Dr. Hertzog's patient might not live to see his return...
...eyes of the church, Editor Dalla Torre wrote, "capitalism is a social disease and a pestilence . . . Faithfully following divine teaching, the church has fought throughout the centuries against this human passion [for wealth], which together with ambition and the abuse of force represents the trio of humanity's greatest social demons...
What makes Charles Dickens such a tough cadaver for the dissector is the fact that he embodied (in the words of his friend Leigh Hunt) "the life and soul ... of 50 human beings." Some of these 50 beings were pretty sleazy characters, and they have been sternly ignored by those whom Pearson calls "Dickolators." Most biographers have refused to admit that their idol often fell short of the ideal Dickens expressed: a "glowing, hearty, generous, mirthful, beaming [attitude] to Home and Fireside...
Boston Saw Red. When all the 50 human cylinders in him were popping in rapid succession, Dickens was a holy terror. He went into a rage if a single piece of furniture in his house was moved or left untidied; he pinned angry notes to his quaking daughters' pincushions, urging them to better habits. On the other hand, he thought nothing of suddenly taking off and striding madly 15 or 20 miles through the night streets of London, or of popping through the window into a friend's drawing room, dressed as a sailor and dancing a hornpipe...