Word: insipidities
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...people Gene encounters on that trip add nothing. This undistinguished group includes Barnes, a writer of insipid mysteries with titles like Death of a Deb; Flash, sports entrepreneur and president of the North American Curling League, Stella the Divorcee, an oversexed blob usually clad in "Omar the Tentmaker" originals who does things Erica Jong is afraid to even dream about; and Lizzie, a confirmed epicurean who thinks truck stops are the "best places...
...here last name, which was DuPont. DuPont. Shapiro rolled it around on his tongue, and it always came out--hydro-carbon effluents--nah, it came out money. Money to travel. Money to write. Money to never have to worry about money again. And she loved him, in her insipid, lobotomized little way, or so they imagined. He went out to dinner with her parents--no take-out Chinese from those Chiang gang at the Hong Kong; shit man, these people were rich. They went out to Locke-Ober's, but Shapiro, to steel himself for the ordeal, had drunk...
...means; but if you are young stay away until you grow older. The scenery of Alaska is so much grander than anything else of the kind in the world that, once beheld, all other scenery becomes flat and insipid. It is not well to dull one's capacity for such enjoyment by seeing the finest first...
...that Erich Segal's goal in life is to be dipped in bronze and mounted somewhere on the Harvard campus. I, for one, would be happy to gratify that wish. Apparently unsatisfied with Love Story, the classic mawkish, lightweight novel, Segal has unloaded a sequel. But for all his insipid sentimentality about Harvard and his nauseatingly self-conscious style, Segal is no fool. Oliver's Story is selling like hotcakes, and Rona Barrett is probably spreading rumors about how much Ryan O'Neal wants for the inevitable film version...
...surviving artist-member of the Berlin Dada group-was in the 1920s one of the most brilliant and acerbic collagists ever to wield scissors. On the other hand, quite trivial artists are included; probably one cannot have a historical show of women's art without the boring and insipid fribbles of Marie Laurencin, but why include a third-rate vendeuse of exotic surrealist tack like Leonor Fini? In such company, artists like Georgia O'Keeffe, Paula Modersohn-Becker, Kathe Kollwitz, Nataliia Goncharova and Sonia Delaunay look extraordinary; one's eye goes with relief to Goncharova...