Word: hungered
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...linguists scrounging through foreign dictionaries to translate his wire, but when it was finally deciphered it was found that he too spurned the Crime's offer. "As we used to remind one another in Nassau Hall," Knock wrote. "Ledigheid is honkers moodier en van dieted voile brooder." (Idleness is hunger's mother, and of thieves it is full brother...
...muzhiks still resisted in the only way they could, slaughtering or abandoning half of Russia's cattle (30 out of 70 million), half its hogs (12 out of 26 million), one-third of its sheep. In the famine that followed (1931-33), millions more peasants died of hunger; and millions of those who remained were driven into kolkhozes (collective farms), subjected to the law of Aug. 7, 1932: "Death by shooting for any theft from the sacred and inviolable property of the kolkhoz...
...should like to reply in detail to all these readers. Obviously, I cannot. Instead, summarily: 1) Most of them seem unable to identify themselves imaginatively with, e.g., Asians seeking freedom from hunger and colonialism and without our experience of the benefits of liberal Western democracy. These decent, God-fearing Americans fail to realize that, if they were Chinese peasants, they probably would prefer the Peking Communist regime to its predecessors. 2) To those who say "Look at the map, look at the Soviet expansion," I reply . . . look at the U.S. bases globally encircling the U.S.S.R. How would Americans feel about...
Coffin Torture. For three years, Merlino, 49, and Faticati, 45, lived in cold, dirt and hunger they had never known in Naples. There were 10,000 prisoners in the camp, crowded like cattle, 40 or 50 to a room. They got only potato soup, carrots and 200 grams of bread for their daily meal. Their letters, to their families and Communist friends in Italy, to Hungarian Communist Boss Matyas Rakosi, were not delivered. One day Faticati had a nervous breakdown; he screamed and cried for his four children. When the guards came, Merlino went to defend his comrade...
...world takes shape, peopled, according to the author's own count, by no less than 160 characters. None of the characters holds a central role. They first come into focus in a shabby cafe, and are followed with an artful candid camera about the wintry city as they hunger for food or affection and disclose, in commonplace words and gestures, the misery that grips most of them. The resulting snapshots go deeper than a surface image: ¶The little flamenco street singer has the face of "a perverted farmyard beast. He is too young in years for cynicism...